


Cracking the code

by Muspell



Series: Hardbacked and Leatherbound [10]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Multi, Platonic Relationships, better to be safe than sorry, not really graphic but the tags are there just in case, overall not as angsty, strangers to besties, you know what happens in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-13 12:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11760120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muspell/pseuds/Muspell
Summary: Leo believes himself to be witty and quick to decipher people; nothing can escape his eye. However, the new boy at the rink is an enigma on itself, so curled up into his own mind Leo doesn't even know where to start.The moment their coach says he needs a place to stay, Leo sees his chance.There's no mistery he can't solve. Even the one that is Otabek Altin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kinoglowworm for the starter point, and Potatusofourgeneration (both Tumblr users, I'll learn how to link stuff soon enough) for the beta and editing work!! And as always, thanks for still sticking to this series; i promise I won't make it too much longer. There's a lot of projects to come.   
> Now, enjoy!

“So, are you coming or not?”

It’s been a week already, and the guy is still practically mute. Like a ghost moving through the house; he doesn’t even leave dishes undone or clothes unfolded. It’s creepy. It’s unnerving. He doesn’t even look like he’s listening to Leo, so the boy does what he knows best: he jumps on the bed, startling Otabek, who suddenly turns to him. 

“Dinner. Guys at the rink. Like, now. Are you in?” Leo explains quickly and Otabek looks away shyly, or what looks like it. He realizes he’s been crawling on the bed on all fours to reach him when Otabek’s back hits the wall behind him. Well, that’s a great impression to make: way to go. He sits back up to put a distance in between them; Otabek is clearly uncomfortable. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna, they’ll understand.”

It’s been like this everyday since Otabek moved in with him: sure, the place is cramped and tiny and awfully breezy on winter nights,but it was one thing when Leo was alone. He can move past it, no big deal. Now, with Otabek around, he just wants to be a good host, and maybe get to know the guy a bit. But there’s no way to be a good host in a shithouse like this, although tidy as never was before, and Otabek was doing too much for a guest. Fuck, the place is always spotless. Leo never gave a shit about that before. 

And still, there’s no fucking conversation. Maybe two, three sentences over dinner? And barely no eye contact: Otabek flinches and hides for no apparent reason, or shuts down completely. It’s like they aren’t even talking the same language! Leo has no clue of(?) what to try; he knows there must be some nice kid in there somewhere. There must be. 

Leo walks up to their closet to pull out some actual dress shoes. They’ve been passed down from his older brother who got them from their father, but they’re still good enough to wear. He can feel the intense stare piercing through his back- the boy never speaks but he’s one observant little thing. Leo’s tried to put on a good impression but every gesture felt blatantly ignored. He’d be lying if he said he won’t try again though: he doesn’t know what happened to make Otabek ran off his dorm in the middle of the night, the first day in the city. He’s more than curious. 

But then again, there’s something at the back of his mind, a voice telling him not to ask. Never to ask. There are some things that are best left untouched. 

“You’ve got my number anyways, don’t you?” Leo almost talks to himself, changing his shirt for one he deems a bit more presentable. He closes the closet door to look at himself in the mirror as he buttons up his cream colored dress shirt. Otabek has looked away, his fingers fidgeting against the covers. As if he’s searching for words. “If you wanna come just drop by, alright?” He turns and smiles the warmest smile he can make up to hide the awkwardness of it all. He really wanted Otabek to join; he knew he wouldn’t from the start. 

That’s too bad, he was hoping their mates knew how to pull out some words out of him. This is probably bigger than what Leo thought the first day. 

“Mh.” Otabek finally finds his voice to mutter a reply and, well, it’s something. At least he was listening. 

Leo struts towards the door, shouting a last goodbye and waving at the still stunned boy on his bed. He’s gonna order a beer or five the minute he gets to the restaurant; he needs them so. 

So, yeah, hangover is a bitch. A particularly nasty one, if he might say. Leo wakes up and the light shining through the half-closed curtains bounces onto his closed eyelids like a damn sledgehammer. _ For everything that is holy, someone please make it stop.  _ He wobbles to the bathroom to try and shake the stiffness of his body: it smells like steam and musky scented cologne. He finds the strength to drop himself on one of the bar stools, his head hitting a bit too hard against the bar. He’s met with huffs of wood polish and fresh coffee. Lately everything smells like a model home. Not that it bothers him. 

Leo lifts up his gaze as a mug is slammed too harshly against the surface, making him wince. It might have been his impression, though: the birds chirping at the windows feel like woodpeckers piercing through his skull.“I don’t know how you take your coffee.” The voice, muffled by the ringing in Leo’s ears, sounds calm and collected and prudently far off. Otabek is in the kitchen, washing up his own cup; there are some cookies on the table, sugar and cream. Looks like Leo’s gonna have to have breakfast on his own. 

“Are you in a hurry?” He asks and rapidly giggles to try and take the weight off his words. He sounds like a concerned mother: that’s not the best way to make someone open up. 

Otabek still doesn’t seem fazed by it, walking right by him to get his jacket off the back of the stool at his side. “Yeah. I’ll be back in a minute.” The door clicks behind him before Leo gets the chance to say anything else. 

He hasn’t found the way to communicate with this kid yet. And ‘kid’ is quite too strong of a word for him, too: the guy is barely fourteen but looks tough as nails: one of his ears and one of his brows pierced and permanently scowling. He’s even shorter than Leo, but he’d think twice before messing with such a guy. 

He’d think twice before doing anything at this point; he pushes himself against the back of his seat to pour some sugar into his already cooling coffee. He makes a face at the taste but still drinks it like medicine: half of the cup in one go. It’s lukewarm and still bitter but it’s the only thing he’s got in hand. He’s not quite a fan of medicine: he doesn’t even have some aspirins for the headache. Fuck it, he’d be surprised if there’s something more than some cream around for the occasional twisted ankle. He sighs and groans and decides he’s not ready for this. He should be in bed, dammit: the sun’s too bright and it’s a sunday. 

Leo won’t be making any progress today anyways: Otabek left without so much as a word. And who the hell knows what “in a minute” means to him? Leo takes his time to get off his chair and move over to clean the mug. it’s the least he can do since Otabek keeps leaving his apartment squeaky clean. 

He wonders how long he’s been scrubbing the same spot where his lips touched the porcelain when he hears the keys on the door. “Back already? I thought you’d abandon me.” He jokes, but doesn’t turn around until he hears the sound of the heavy leather jacket dropping on the back of one of the seats again. Just in case. In case of what, though, he has no idea. 

“I said I’d be.” Otabek deadpans. He stands in the middle of the room, thumbs on the belt loops of his jeans, glaring at Leo like a challenge. “Go to bed.” He says after a minute with a subtle nod of his head. 

“What?” Leo giggles mostly out of nerves than actual amusement. What the fuck does that mean? The guy can’t just walk into his house and order him around to- to-

“You were drinking.” Otabek’s voice doesn’t change and Leo can’t be sure if he’s accusing him or just stating a fact. When he doesn’t move from his place, Otabek continues. “You look like shit, go rest.”

Oh. so that’s it; he wants to take care of him? Well, it wouldn’t be too bad to give in, then. Leo shrugs and does as he’s told, sliding under the covers as Otabek leaves a bottle of aspirins on the bedside table. So that’s why he left, after all? To fetch him some meds? Isn’t that sweet. “Thanks, man, I’m dying here.” He sighs, smiling; he pushes the covers over his nose and closes his eyes, taking in the warmth of the bed. 

Otabek might not be such a dry closed up guy as Leo thought. Here he is, leaving what sounds like a glass of water on his bedside table. Going to buy aspirins for him. Caring for him, and they’ve only met each other a bit over a week ago. The guy is a true gentleman, isn’t he? Really thoughtful and…

Is that the front door?

“Are you leaving again?” Leo glances at the door where Otabek is draping his jacket over his shoulders again to put in on. 

He doesn’t even seem to have listened to him for a good while. Yet he replies as soon as Leo prepares to inquire again. “Yes.” 

“Are you coming back?” Leo practically  _ whines _ . He’s in too bad shape to hide his disappointment; he was expecting Otabek to stay and, who knows. Maybe actually chat a bit? 

“Yes.” Otabek reaches out for his helmet.” At some point.” Leo snorts at this and lets himself fall face first onto the pillow, looking at the guy at the door through puppy dog eyes. It always works. His siblings hate that trick. 

Otabek doesn’t give in. No, even worse: he rolls his eyes at him. Barely, but Leo is sure he does. “You won’t die from a hangover. Suck it up.” He adds before slamming the door closed behind him. 

It resonates through every bone in Leo’s body as if he was a church bell. A pretty tattered one, as well. Otabek did it on purpose, didn’t he? Damn it, once Leo thought he learned something about him…

Maybe he’s pushing too hard. And Otabek doesn’t like to be pushed around. But he wasn’t staying anyways, wasn’t he? 

Leo’s head feels like it’s about to catch on fire. He’d better drop it. He’d better get some rest. 

He takes one of the aspirins and rolls on the bed, leaving the door at his back. Sure, Leo’s not gonna die without, but it would have been nice of Otabek had stayed, right?

He’s not even sure if that what roommates do. He’s never had one. Fuck, he’s never been so far away from his family before. What  _ do _ roommates do? He should probably ask Otabek when he gets home again; he seems comfortable enough around the city for a guy so far away from home. Then again, he looks like a tough guy, but their coach seemed to have taken him under her wing pretty easily. There was a rumour that he’s crashed on her couch his first night in the city for some reason. Coach must know something Leo doesn’t: why Otabek needed a place to stay, for instance. No one ever comes to train without a bed somewhere: the Coach’s fees are big enough for someone with no monetary help at all. 

There’s so much going on Leo doesn’t know. And he’s not okay with not knowing. His detective skills aren’t praised for leaving mysteries unresolved. Well… they  _ aren’t  _ praised in the first place, but people will notice he’s got some skills for it. He’ll show them.

He’ll crack Otabek’s Code. But first, he’ll take that well needed nap. 


	2. Chapter 2

Leo wakes up with the roar of his stomach demanding attention. He felt too queasy to even dare try anything besides coffee but now his appetite is back with a vengeance. He walks up to find Otabek at his laptop on the kitchen bar, huge headphones on and completely focused. It’s too tempting.

He tries to sneak past him to the kitchen, leaning subtly to check the screen, when Otabek snaps the laptop shut. He doesn’t say a word; just glares at Leo judgingly. 

Leo can’t do nothing but giggle awkwardly and move to the fridge. he ducks behind the refrigerator door just in case. Not that Otabek has ever been a violent person; not with him, at least. But you never know. Leo definitely doesn’t. He microwaves some chinese takeout and takes a seat right in front of the boy, still scowling at him yet turning the device on again. 

“So, what were you doing?” Leo tries to sound cheeky. It translates to flirty in his ears. Way to go, boy. At this, Otabek just positions his headphones tighter around his ears. Yeah, Leo definitely aced that one. 

The guys from the rink said it last night, Leo recalls. It’s gonna be like living with a ghost: Otabek is definitely there but without saying so much as a word. Well, he does say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, mind you. So, a very polite ghost. At least, there’s that. Still, Leo can’t seem to find a way to make him speak; he just finishes his meal and gets up to wash his dishes. The warm water in between his fingers seem to somehow soothe the drumming still banging inside his head, discreetly following the occasional tapping of Otabek’s keyboard. He’s not writing much, that’s for sure. 

“Seriously though, what  _ are _ you doing? You’re not talking to someone, that’s a given.” Leo risks without even turning; he rather not check if Otabek’s glaring at him. 

“How so?” Otabek responds way too fast for someone who’s wearing headphones. He just put them on to shut Leo up? He decides to shake off the rejection- his guest is asking something, and that is one thing he  _ never _ does. 

Leo turns to lean on the counter, one hand on his hip and one running through the tangles in his hair, simulating a confidence he surely doesn’t have. Not when he’s being scanned by that hard, completely unreadable, gaze. “You’re typing too little for it to be whole sentences. Either you have nothing to say or you’re doing something else.” Otabek raises a brow at him and slowly pulls the headphones down from his ears. He’s listening: Leo must have bullshitted more convincingly than he thought. He can’t really stop now, either: he’s on a roll. He just  _ has to _ show off. “Can’t be social media either: you’re not scrolling down, you’re actually  _ doing something _ . Your fingers move all across the mousepad, not just up and down, so it must be something, I don’t know, creative.” He’s lying through his teeth now, taking wild guesses. Otabek looks away and Leo is about to shrinks into himself and jump onto the bed to hide when he sees it. 

Otabek’s lips curve slightly upwards at the corner of his mouth, so subtle Leo knows he wasn’t meant to notice. Otabek smiled at him. He opened up, at some point. He showed something.

That’s good enough for Leo. Fuck it, it feels like a victory. He pushes a bit further just to see how far can he go. “So, what is it? Do you draw or something?” He beams at Otabek who looks curiously at him. As if he had never seen someone smiling so intensely at him. 

“Or something.” Otabek concedes, shifting back in front of his computer. Leo won’t dare sneak behind him again; he knows he’ll just make things worse. 

That doesn’t mean he’s not curious, though; he’ll just have to move carefully. “Or something, huh?” He chuckles. “That only makes it all more interesting, y’know. What something?”

“Not your problem.” Otabek snaps quickly and raise his headphones over his ears again. Well, it was good while it lasted. And to be honest, Leo is still more than a little weak after the night before. He doesn’t have the strength to face Otabek’s seemingly blank expressions right now. 

“Fair enough.” He turns to prepare some coffee. He’ll need every trick in the book. He might not be a heavy drinker but he’s gotten some awful hangovers in his life. Just because: his body simply rejects alcohol in the nastiest of ways. Usually making a fool out of him in the process, but to be fair, he didn’t care much about that in the first place. “Coffee?” He asks as if talking to himself. The guy is listening to some shit, anyways, not him. 

“I don’t like coffee.” Otabek’s voice cuts the silence left between them like thunder. He’s still around, he’s still listening. He still cares enough to answer. He could just play dumb. 

Something inside Leo lights up, like a candle within a fog. It’s hardly enough to light his way through, but it’s still there. It still feels like a hand stretched out for him, leading him across the dirt road. Babysteps in the dark. But he’s going somewhere, he knows; he just needs to be careful not to trip over his own feet. 

“But you drink it.” Leo reasons. He remembers having breakfast everyday around him. Otabek always drinks coffee in the morning, even when he doesn’t eat anything. The coach would be so pissed if she knew Otabek doesn’t actually have breakfast before training. 

“How could I wake up otherwise?” That’s a good point. And Otabek always gulps his over sweetened coffee in a few motions, barely twisting his mouth downwards. As if it was medicine.

Well, that actually makes sense, doesn’t it? He’s human after all: no one can sleep as little as he does and get up as restless, yet still perform on the ice without the aid of caffeine. Duty before pleasure. 

What is life without a bit of bitterness in it anyway, right? It always helps to make the rest of it seem much sweeter.

As for the headache. There’s nothing, not even the smell of fresh brewed coffee sitting in the pot, that has the power to take Leo’s mind off the awful pounding on his temple. He serves a cup and sips it black, trying to focus on the scalding beverage down his throat and sits in front of Otabek, obscured by his laptop screen. “Ugh, I can’t even think straight today.” He sighs, leaning back into the chair. “It should be illegal to feel this bad.” Otabek seems to huff from the other side of the table, and Leo can’t help but giggle. “It’s  _ really _ bad.” He whines.

“Not that I mind-” Otabek starts without even glancing at him but Leo cuts him short.

“You do mind if you have to talk about it,” he jokes, sipping on his coffee more to hide the smirk. Who knows how much it takes for the boy to get offended; it’s smarter to tread the water. “But go on.” 

Otabek only twists his mouth in annoyance. “You’re a baby.” He says, lifting his gaze up to meet Leo’s. “It couldn’t have been that bad last night.”

“How would  _ you _ know?” Leo snaps. To be perfectly honest, there wasn’t that much liquor; he’s just terrible with it. Plus, he gets carried away too easily. He should’ve known shots were a bad idea. But Otabek knows nothing about that- he doesn’t talk with anyone else on the rink, not yet. Leo can still play the badass card. Not that it was ever believable in the first place, but he can always try. “You’re not inside my head. It was.” He replies firmly, trying to sound more matter-of-fact than offended. He knows for a fact Otabek isn’t buying it. “ Do you even drink, like, at all?” He practically mutters into his cup as he gulps the rest of it down. 

“Not with you, I don’t.” Otabek says, focusing back into whatever the fuck he’s doing. Why that pisses Leo off, he has no idea. Maybe is how easily Otabek can dismiss him; maybe it’s the cheekiness in his tone. 

“So,” he starts, letting the word roll off his tongue for a second too long, “if, hypothetically, you were to drink with me.” He whips his hair off his face in an exaggerated gesture to try to appear at least a bit less desperate for an answer as he is. “And I do mean  _ hypothetically _ , of course.What would you go for? Vodka?” Because the guy is Kazakh, right? Russia’s kind of neighbours or something? Also, everyone loves vodka. Otabek wouldn’t say no to that, not if he’s into spirits. 

“No.” Otabek answers sharply. Well, there goes Leo’s deduction. Nice going. It takes a while for Otabek to give in and follow the game. “Hypothetically, because I still won’t drink with you, I wouldn’t go that safe.” So, he’s into vodka but it’s too easy a choice, right? So Leo isn’t  _ that _ wrong after all. But it doesn’t say enough. He still tries to play cool and gets up to wash his cup. Usually he’d just drop it in the sink and leave it until he feels like doing the dishes, but screwing up Otabek’s impeccable cleaning habits feels like a crime somehow. 

Otabek waits until Leo is busy with the sink to speak again. “I’d go for Koumiss, but that’s close to impossible to get in here. Also, it’s pretty light, and you can do much better.” He pauses for a bit and Leo’s positive that's a smile on Otabek’s voice. “ You can handle a bit more than that, right? ”

Leo chuckles and turns, leaning on the counter while he dries his hands on his shirt. “What’s the verdict, then? I have to say, I’m curious.”

“I noticed.” Otabek turns on his stool to look at him, the tiniest of smirk curving his lips. “Have you ever heard of JaegerMeister?”

“I feel like I’m about to.” Leo bites his lip not to hop on the spot in excitement. That  _ definitely  _ counts as a victory. Otabek’s cute little smile is just a wonderful bonus. He can do this. Leo’s gonna see what lies underneath that tough stoic façade eventually. He’s sure of it. 

Seriously though, what the fuck  _ is _ Koumiss?


	3. Cbapter 3

Bad days happen. Even the all achieving Nikiforov must have had them. Bad jumps, sloppy execution; just his head in the clouds. They happen, they pass; as simple as that.

Then why does Leo feel so responsible?

Otabek is a grown man. Well, as grown as Leo is, at least. He’s pretty capable of taking care of himself and won’t let anyone think otherwise. He’s strong and focused and determined. They’ve been together for a few weeks already, and by his standards, still hadn’t talked much, but Otabek seems more open nonetheless. More comfortable. As if he feels a bit more at home. 

But that’s not the Otabek Leo sees on the lockers, not today. This one looks a lot more like a child, all sharp edges and an opaque stare glued to the skates he’s yanking a bit too roughly off his feet. Coach has been a bit too harsh on him, Leo reckons, but Otabek is a brick wall; he couldn’t have shattered just for that. 

“Hey, wanna do something afterwards?” Leo sits casually besides him and Otabek rapidly puts on his shoes and shoots up. There was a hint of scarlet on his toes, a flash of red Otabek hid too quickly for Leo to see clearly. He’s hurt, it’s noticeable enough. Both in and out. 

_ You’re not a child anymore, you should be better than this by now.  _

“Go home.” Otabek replies too sternly, his back drawn to Leo, and pulls his bag over his shoulder. Something inside Leo’s chest sinks; he feels like an empty well, all stale air and void inside, a endless fall. And Otabek peering on the edge. 

“Are you coming?” He asks as loud and firm as he can make it. He still sounds like begging for his dear’s attention; his voice a soft longing whisper. 

Otabek stops for a moment, only to walk away the next. 

Leo falls into the pit and there’s nothing to climb onto. He wonders if Otabek is falling into his own pìtch black void as well. How to reach him.If Leo can, this time. 

It feels like square one. No, scratch that: it feels like he’s way further off than he was when they first met. Otabek was a fortress, unreadable, but he wasn’t defended like this. Not with venom and spikes. He was unreadable, not unreachable. He was still there somewhere. 

Leo can only hope for the best, but hope seems like too flimsy a ledge to hang onto at times. 

Leo walks into a too silent, unfamiliar, apartment. He makes coffee and opens up Skype to chat with his siblings; to numb the emptiness of the room slowly creeping into him. There’s a tightness in his chest, a tingle on his fingertips as he types and hopes for them to pick up. He needs them; he needs someone. He needs Otabek and he hasn’t heard from him since he stormed out of the rink. Leo tried to buy some time, going to lunch with his mates and taking the long route home, but there’s no trace of him. Their home is a postcard of what it was this morning, and this morning feels so far away. Otabek even smiled at Leo, mocked him. He does that now; he even laughs at himself from time to time. 

It feels like it’s been ages since then. It feels like it takes ages for someone on Leo’s family groupchat to read the texts, but his older brother calls soon enough to see him biting the flesh at the side of his fingernails. 

“I thought you stopped doing that.” He smirks, a beer can in his hand raised as a toast. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Leo has stopped. When he was around twelve, the nervous biting made him hurt himself bad enough for his school tutor to notice and send him to a professional. Of course, the doctor just said ‘he’s a kid and an international athlete, it’s no wonder he’s anxious’ and disregarded the whole thing with naps or music or whatever. Music worked for a bit, but truth be told, it wasn’t the only thing he uses to calm himself down. But he won’t be telling his coach that, of course; Leo’s pòsitive he could be kicked out of the competition for it. 

“I did, but- but-” Leo sighs exasperatedly, holding his mistreated hand on his lap to try and stop himself. But what? His roommate doesn't pay him enough attention? He can’t possibly say that; he’ll never live it down. It’s bad enough that he’s already described Guang Hong as ‘cute’ in a sudden burst of honesty. 

“Married life is kicking your ass, huh?” His brother smirks and Leo groans. He could defend himself against it, but the guy is right. Living with someone is not easy. Otabek himself isn’t. That makes even more of a challenge. 

“It’s not  _ that _ , dude, it’s a bit beyond that.” He huffs and drops himself against the back of his barstool. He’d buy a proper desk for his laptop if he’d only had some room for it. “Remember when mom told me over and over I can’t live alone and pretend to have a respectable home?” He chuckles at the memory. In her defense, he was a mess back then. They all were: three kids and none could use the laundry basket or wash a mug after breakfast. But Leo learned to behave eventually; it’s not like he has to dodge dirty underwear scattered all over the furniture to get anywhere in his apartment. Not like at his brother’s place. “She’d  _ faint _ if she sees how everything looks now.” Leo moves away from the camera and turns the laptop slowly in order to show the spotless state of his place. 

“Wow, what the hell happened there, man? Are you with some neat freak of a chick?” Leo laughs at the way his brother scratches his head in confusion. 

“It’s not a chick, Javi. It’s a guy.” He lets out a nervous laughter he can’t quite keep in. Leo knows what’s coming so he jumps ahead. “And we’re not  _ together _ . He needed a place. I told you that.”

“Yeah, you also told me ‘I’ll never smoke that shit, it kills you’” Javi replies in a too high pitched mocking tone . Leo twist his mouth in disgust: he doesn’t sound like that at all. 

“That’s all on you. You’re the worst influence ever.” He retorts. Truth be told, weed has helped him with his stress issues, but it’s still frowned upon to be smoking it at age twelve. Because your fifteen year old brother buys it for you. And it’s not like he smokes a lot, either! It’s just that sometimes life can be a real pain and he just needs to chill a bit. No big deal, right?

“I don’t know, dude, I didn’t tell you to go picking up strays on your way home.” Javi jokes and, even though he means well, it sounds insulting to Leo’s ears. Otabek’s not a stray: he’s not a beaten down beast, left for dead on the streets and asking for mercy. Leo doesn’t know much but one thing is for sure: Otabek is tough enough to survive on his own. He doesn’t need Leo. And even if he wasn’t, he’s too proud to ask for help. 

“Otabek is not a whim, Javi! He’s a nice guy and I like having him around, okay?” Leo practically shouts at the screen, exasperated for reason he can’t quite comprehend. He’s only known Otabek for a few weeks, but there’s something about him that just makes Leo want to protect him, to stay by his side. But not because Otabek might be too weak to carry on on his own; Leo just wants to him him striving. He knows the boy can make it; he just wants to be around when it happens. “He’s awesome, too! He cooks so well, and he’s Asian so his meals are different but  _ so _ good, and- and, God,  _ the house _ . It always looks like out of a fairytale book, and smells like spices and actual clean air and shit. Even the dirty laundry is fucking folded, Javi. The guy is a blessing.” Leo rants without even noticing the words stumbling out of his mouth in rapid fire and gesturing wildly. There’s a low giggle ringing in his ears during his speech but he’s too focused on the images on his head to care. That is until he feels his throat too dry to keep going. “He’s great, okay? It’s not that.”

“I hear ya, kid. Need me a guy like that.” Javi says in between loud cackles. “Nah, scratch that: make it a girl and we have a deal.” He adds after a moment. “What the big trouble in paradise, after all, man?”

“You couldn’t cope with it. The guy’s something, I tell you.” Leo sighs with a too exhausted smile. Otabek is a blessing to have around as a roommate, sure, but as a friend he’s still a damn mystery to Leo. Just when he thought he was getting somewhere Otabek just storms off and doesn’t bother to pick up his phone. Leo only texted him once, sure, but the text hasn’t even arrived; Otabek must have turned his phone off. Why, only he knows. “I don’t understand, dude. I just- “he cards his fingers through his hair a bit too harshly in order to calm himself. It hardly works. “I can’t get how he works. And I thought I was good with people. He’s just not-” His hands grip tightly at his hair, pulling just enough for him to feel the stinging. It soothes his mind out of the mayhem Otabek makes on it. He’s simply confusing; Leo is really bad with confusing. 

“Not what? Human?” Javi laughs wholeheartedly. “Look, dude, relax and he will; it’s that simple. Works every time.” Leo sighs; if it only were that simple. “Or light one up and he’ll open up.”

“He’s an  _ athlete _ , man, I can’t just light a joint and hope for him not to tell Coach.” Leo reckons, letting his hands finally fall loudly onto the table. “Look, just-” He lets out a long breath; this is not going anywhere. He could never understand. Fuck, Leo can’t and he’s beside Otabek day and night. “Let’s just talk about something else, okay?” 

“Sure, bro, whatever. Hey, you won’t believe the guy that came to the shop today.” Javi’s quick to change the subject, of course he is. He can tell how painful it is to Leo to admit he doesn’t feel strong enough to walk out of this unharmed. Fuck that: Leo doesn’t even knows what  _ this _ is. Is Otabek mad at him? At himself? Maybe just depressed? Is he drinking or smoking or running through the valleys or who knows what? He’s a tough dude: maybe he’s even pushing his way into a moshpit or punching strangers in an alley. Who the fuck knows. Leo can’t wait for the package he asked his mom to send from home to arrive; that will help. In the meantime, well, he’s just fucked. 

He can’t do much more than wait for whatever it is to come. Hoping it won’t be as terrible as Leo imagines it could be. 


	4. Chapter 4

Leo startles awake from the slight touch of fingers brushing against his ribs; his body trembling from the contact with Otabek’s feverish skin. The sunlight sneaks through the curtain folds and the alarm blasts on his cellphone but none can shake the drowsiness of sleep off of him as the complete immobility of Otabek does. Leo turns to his side to watch the boy sleep face down against his pillow, one hand carded through his hair and one stretched out besides him. There’s a subtle flush on his face and what looks like little red spots on his neck peering from the collar of his shirt. But that’s not the weirdest part: if anything, Otabek is the lightest sleeper Leo has ever known, and he hasn’t even stirred. 

Leo can barely function without his well needed sleep, but he stayed up almost all night waiting for Otabek to come back. Binge watching silly romcoms, or texting nonsense. Even Guang Hong, with his twelve hour difference, told him to go to bed. Eventually tiredness won over anxiety and he passed out on his bed still clutching his phone. But all of that washes off in a second when Leo tries to take Otabek’s hand and the boy hides it under his body, glaring at him through barely opened eyes. 

“You’re hot, dude.” Leo states and winces when he realizes how that phrase sounds. Even when Otabek doesn’t seem to react to it. “Like, really hot. As in, sick hot. Are you okay?” Leo tries to reach out but Otabek flinches, pulling his hands closer to himself. “What’s wrong?”

Otabek takes his time to answer, frowning deeply as if he’s carefully picking over his words. “Don’t touch me.” He finally whispers, sounding more hurt than angry. Physically hurt, in fact: as if he had to rip the words off his throat. 

Leo sits up on the bed and, from this new perspective,  the red marks on Otabek’s neck look more like hickeys than a feverish blush. Probably. He won’t dare ask, anyways; for some reason the boy is still closed up on himself and Leo doesn’t wanna risk it more than he has to. “I won’t, relax.” He lifts his hands in the air as he gets off the bed to make breakfast. He’ll text the coach as soon as Otabek turns on the bed; he won’t let the boy go to the rink today. Whether it’s actual sickness or something else, he’s in no shape to train today. Leo tells himself he’ll find out why soon enough. 

As soon as he feels ready for whatever storm it is to come. Otabek is not an emotional person; if he closes up on himself like this, it must be serious. Leo needs his mother’s package to come right away: he’s got no more tricks up his sleeve, and he’s completely lost. He hears the rumble of Otabek shifting on the bed and calls back to him, keeping his eyes glued to the foggy coffee pot to resist the urge to go check on the boy groaning low under his breath. “Don’t get up; I’ve already said you’re not going to the rink today.” 

“No, I-” Otabek starts but cuts himself off; his feet fall heavy against the hardwood floor and the bedside table creaks under his weight. “I need to-”

“You need to rest, man.” Leo sighs. He props himself up on his toes to reach the first package of cookies he can find and turns, willing himself not to look at Otabek just yet. There’s something in the trembling of his voice that’s scaring the hell out of Leo; something like pain, and remorse. Something like a cry for help. And help is something Otabek  _ never _ asks for willingly. 

“I need to skate.” Otabek replies as firmly as he can manage, and yet it still sounds like a plead. At this, Leo can’t help but lift his gaze up to see the tattered figure leaning on the bedside table as if he was about to fall, his eyes still clouded with exhaustion and his arms trembling at the effort. 

“You  _ can barely stand _ , are you fucking kidding me?” Leo slams the cookies on the table as he crosses the apartment in long strides to grab Otabek by the shoulders. The boy tries to shrug him off but he doesn’t have the strength, not right now. “You’re not going anywhere. Tell me what the hell is wrong with you.” 

Otabek stares down at his feet, slightly losing his balance in the process, but says nothing. Leo just huffs and lets him go: there’s no point in pushing till a breaking point.  He doesn’t want it to get to that. He can reach in Otabek a kinder way, he knows he can. 

“It's been a long night.” Otabek finally replies in a tired tone, and Leo tries to shake off the feeling that’s the understatement of the century. “I need the ice, Leo.”

“You need to stay and get some rest, that’s what.” Leo scolds him. He won’t take no for an answer right now; for some reason he’s felt like Otabek is his responsibility since the first minute he stepped foot into Leo’s home. He won’t back down. “Just stay and do whatever and nap this whole thing off.” He continues while turning to fetch some coffee. His nerves are a mess and there’s so much he doesn’t understand, so much Otabek is not willing to share. So much Leo isn’t quite sure he wants to know. He could brush it off as a hungover, but hangovers don’t look like that - and what he thought were hickeys look more like fingerprints from up close. He repeats himself he doesn’t wanna know, he doesn’t need to know. He just need to get to the rink, to hit the ice, to let it all wash off of him. It’ll be better in the afternoon. 

“Just go back to bed, okay?” Leo practically begs. He can’t fight the presence that is Otabek Altin, not even like this; but he can appeal to the guy’s softer side. He’s sure there must be one. He lets out a breathe he didn’t notice he was holding when he hears Otabek shuffling back under the sheets, moving grandpa slow. “I’ll be right back from training.” He adds and there’s no reply. “I promise.”

Otabek only turns his back to Leo; he might not care, but Leo finds it soothing the thought that at least Otabek knows he cares. It’s the best he can do right now. There’s something wild and deadly lurking on the mist of Otabek’s darkest corners; Leo can’t tell if he’s prepared to try his luck and wander off. 

All he needs is to let some sunshine in. If Otabek allows. 

It’s getting late. He better get going. 

It was a long day. Longer than when Otabek is there: Coach, in the absence of her newer apprentice, focused on Leo and his own flaws. Now, his body aches as if he’s been chewed down and spat out again. Coach definitely needs more students to focus on, or else she gets lethal. 

Although, in her defense, Leo isn’t usually as distracted as he was today- he couldn’t stop thinking about Otabek and his weird fever and awful bruises all over. Well, he still can’t, as he gets onto the bus due to the lack of motorcycle rides home. The boy is slightly more communicative than a brick wall, and just as warm. Well, brickwalls are warm sometimes, but only when the sun hits them the right way. 

The bus seems to takes ages to get to his stop, and Leo practically runs to his building door. He didn’t even text Otabek all day: he knew the boy would only ignore him. He should be, too; he needs rest, away from electronic devices. Leo let Otabek have his laptop only because he trusted the fever was bad enough to make him step away from it willingly. The least Leo could do was stopping himself from asking Otabek how he felt. He would get home sooner or later. 

And it feels like later; the curtains are completely shut down and the air is heavy with enclosement and cigarette smoke. Does Otabek even smoke? Leo definitely doesn't. Not cigarettes, at least, and not inside the apartment. There’s a figure curling further into itself under the covers, reacting at every step Leo makes. He’s not asleep. He’s not relaxing, either. Leo discards his bag near the breakfast table and walks to the kitchen to fix himself some snacks, mostly out of finding something to do than actual hunger. 

“Have you eaten?” He shouts out to the air, and gets no answer. Otabek is tidy: he could have cooked and washed it all before Leo got home, but everything looks exactly the same as it was this morning. He probably  didn’t move from the bed. Well, almost: he did get smokes somewhere, given than there are cigarette butts on the trashcan. Unless, of course, he already had them with him. Leo has never seen him smoke but that doesn't really mean he doesn’t, right? Otabek is still a mystery, after all. And Leo has no clue about where he’s been last night. If he’s been drinking, clubbing, picking fights. Leo is still convinced those are the marks of a street fight, even though he’s never been in one. And that’s exactly why he’s too scared to ask. That, and the possibility of Otabek beating the shit out of him for messing around his stuff. 

Leo decides to make a couple of mug cakes, focusing on the low screech of the microwave and not the turn and twitches of Otabek under the sheets. He’s restless, and anxious. He’s unreadable, and Leo can’t take it. It pains him to see Otabek so troubled, and so curled into himself Leo can’t possibly imagine what’s going on in his head. 

The microwave rings and Leo takes the two cups and a couple of spoons to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he digs into his mug. He went for the sweetest more chocolatey recipe he knows; there’s no heartache that can defeat the sweetness of his lava cakes. Still, Otabek barely peeks at him, lowering the bed sheets down to his nose. 

“Want some?” Leo asks as casually as he can manage. “I made one for you.”

Otabek sits up slowly, wobbling on his hands as he leans on them, and keeping his gaze straight down. There’s no point in talking, isn’t there? Leo use all his willpower to bury the concern from his face and hands Otabek the untouched cup. The boy just stares for a while, before trying some of the dessert and leaning back against the headboard for support. Otabek is polite in every aspect, well mannered: Leo knows how hungry he actually is by the way he digs into his cup, not fast enough to make it messy but still too eager. 

The minutes they spend in almost total silence, aside from the sound of metal against porcelain, feel like ages. Leo practices over and over phrases in his head; none are good enough to ask. He can’t just blurt out “what the fuck happened to you last night?,” can he? It’s not like Otabek will answer. And he does, Leo still isn’t sure if he wants to know the details. If he can deal with them. 

“You mind if I go to the mail for just a second?” He says quickly and Otabek doesn't even nod at him. He’s never shown any particular interest in spending time with Leo, after all, but Leo was still expecting some sort of answer. Some sort of sign. 

This is as good a sign as any other, isn’t it?

“I’ll be right back.” Leo gets up and clutches both cups against his chest to take them to the sink. “I promise.”

Otabek only melts away underneath the covers again, his stare too tired to look threatening. Or thankful. Or anything but exhausted. 

Leo only hopes this last trick will work: he’s hit a dead end, and it’s more painful than he thought. The boy is his protege; he can’t just leave him brooding and wallowing on a bed as if he was all alone in the world. He need to be comforting to him. He needs to learn how. 

And he’ll put his every thought of it: he’ll make of Otabek a happy man, even if it kills him. 

Phichit is always conveniently close to his phone; Leo can always count on that. And he’s friends with this lovely but anxious skater he shares a dorm with. An exceptional one, as well, but too self conscious to notice. It drives Phichit mad and that’s not an easy task. He’s the only one Leo can ask about these things, right? 

And Phichit doesn’t even need to ask for names: he starts typing a series of tips and quirks on how to communicate with your emotionally atypical roommate in no time. It takes him a good number of texts and there’s just so much information Leo thinks his brain is about to collapse as he waits for his call at the post office. Even though his friend means well and there’s a couple of things Leo has already tried (‘food is a given: try making something for him!’) a big portion of that focuses on shared, or at least known, interests. And Leo has absolutely no clue what Otabek likes, or even what the hell he does on the computer in the afternoons. Or where does he go at night. He likes motorcycles, that’s given, but it’s also pretty easy for him to rely on that. Leo’s got mad deduction skills; he should make use of them. But how can he do that when Otabek barely answers any question? He knows Otabek doesn’t like coffee, or just about anyone who dares speak to him, but that’s about it.  

He’s still got a hunch about this. He signs the form and holds the package against him, too big to be carried with only one hand. Leo’s missed his little girl; he cradles the weight of the cardboard box in his arms dearly. It’s been a while. 

Leo knows shit about Kazakh cuisine, much less about their comfort food. To be fair, he doesn’t know the first thing about anything Kazakh, and having Otabek around is no help. He knows there’s a lot of garlic involved and that whatever else Otabek cooks with, he does it phenomenally. But that’s about it. So when he gets off the bus at the corner of their building he doesn’t know where to go to get Otabek something ‘to get his mind off whatever it is’. He won’t even dare ask Otabek where that could be: not only Phichit advised him not to right away, but Leo is sincerely scared of not being strong enough to listen. His imagination is vivid enough add it is for Otabek to confirm his fears. It might be normal competition stress and homesickness, but what if it’s not?

There’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall russian resto near their home and it’s the only thing Leo can think of. The girl on the bar almost coos when she hears the words “comfort food”  but as soon as she stays listing various names and descriptions too fast for Leo to comprehend, he feels his brain melting into a puddle.  There's a lot of options. What if he chooses something Otabek doesn't like?  

“You said cheese, right? “ Leo asks before the girl can continue her rant. Now, that's one hell of a safe place. Everyone likes cheese. And if not, they should. “I'll take whatever that thing you said is.’

The girl grins and nods as she prepares a paper bag with his order. Leo fidgets and practically runs off the door as soon as he gets the food, darting towards his apartment. He pretty much crashes against his front door while looking for the keys in his pockets, his hands too busy holding an oversized cardboard box and the brown bag hanging from between his teeth. The place is completely silent but for the sound of the shower running, and pitch black. There’s a faint scent of enclosure: Otabek must have just gotten up. This is as good a time as any. 

There’s a smaller box full of treats and little hand written notes on the package but Leo disregards it for now; he takes the acoustic guitar out of the box, tightly bubble wrapped, and proceeds to ready it to play. He hasn’t forgotten how to tune it by ear, luckily; not just yet. There are only a few songs he remembers but it takes him a while before he finds one that fits his purpose. 

The water stops running. This is Leo’s time to shine. He plucks the notes out with a particularly slow tempo; it’s been a while and his brain takes its time to remember every chord.    
[ _ So close, no matter how fa _ _ r... _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrSMm8tOp6U)

There’s the sound of a door being opened and shut carefully. Silently if it wasn’t for the creaking hinges. 

_ And nothing else matters… _

The ruffle of a chair being dragged against the floor. A soft slam against the wooden bar. Leo doesn’t dare to open his eyes; he usually doesn’t when he plays, just to feel the music into his chest instead of automatically pulling the strings as if it were a math formula. He plays lovingly, not wisely; he doesn’t need to. 

Still, his focus is on the tiny hints around him: the sensation of being stared at, the steady soft breathing, the scent of cologne and steam. 

_ Never cared for what they do _

_ Never cared for what they know _

_ But I know _

Leo lets himself be trapped on the cadence of the song, played even sweeter to fit the soft tone on his voice. He was never good at playing loud noisy music: his brother says there’s not an inch of anger in his body, that’s why he’s so bad at it. Leo would disagree, specially reminding himself of the marks on Otabek’s neck. 

He plucks out the last chords and opens his eyes slowly to look at the boy sitting in front of him. Mouth agape and staring with an unusual tenderness on his brow, his chin resting on his palm and a finger toying around the edge of his lower lip. Otabek looks relaxed, in awe like a child. He looks his age, for once, and not completely terrifying. But more importantly, out of his shell, finally. 

Yet he doesn’t say a thing. 

“Was it so bad?” Leo grins nervously; he always jokes as a way to calm himself. People laughing make himself at ease. Practically any form of reaction from Otabek would make him feel better. At this point  _ anything works.  _

“No, I’m...” Otabek starts but cuts himself short; he looks away and his eyes fall on the brown paper bag. “What’s in there?” 

Nice way to change the topic. Subtle. Whatever: it works for Leo. He got what he wanted anyways: Otabek is talking again. “Cheese thingies?” He grimaces, unable to remember what the girl said those were called. “I went to the russian deli two blocks away. I know it’s not Kazakh, I know they’re different, but I wanted to bring you something and- and-” Leo rants, knowing well he needs to stop but  _ what if he just made everything worse. _

“It’s okay, I’m…” Otabek interrupts to make Leo shut up. “I’m not offended. I guess… I’m impressed.”

Leo blinks rapidly. He forces himself to answer despite the shock the softness in Otabek’s tone provokes in him. “So, good impressed or bad impressed?” He jokes. 

“Just that.” Otabek replies firmly. Bad move; Leo should change the subject right away or else his roommate will surely go back to his shell.

“Did you know the song?” What kind of stupid question is  _ that. _ Everyone does. That’s exactly why he chose it. He adds immediately. “Do you like it?”

Otabek just stares in confusion, furrowing his brows at him, as if Leo were suddenly talking Spanish at him. He does a lot of things when nervous but switching languages isn’t one of them. He takes his time to speak again, trying to find some sense into it all. “I’m not used to it, I guess-”

“To people singing to you?” Leo shoots back and bites his tongue right after. He should not have said that. It was supposed to be a casual ‘I was playing and you showed up’ thing, to make it light. Not a serenade to his depressed friend. That’s way too much pressure on Otabek, and he hasn’t been handling pressure too well lately. He needs to fix it, and now. “I like to sing to people, it feels a bit more authentic than to play hidden from the world.” He lies through his teeth. He hates strangers chiming in to comment about his mediocre music skills; he’s a figure skater after all, he’s not obligated to know how to play. They should be praising his dedication. It feels dirty, dishonest; Leo isn’t good with dishonest. “Look, I just wanted to make you feel better, and this song is pretty and I can actually play it, kind of. And I’ve stopped by the russian deli to bring you whatever there is in there - please don’t tell me you’re lactose intolerant now ‘cause this is going bad enough already-”

“Leo.” Otabek moves from his chair and grabs Leo by his shoulders tight enough for them to sting. The older boy shuts up mostly out of a fear he’ll never confess. “It’s fine.” Otabek lets his tone melts into a sweeter hushed voice. “It’s all good, you didn’t have to-” His words seem to halt in what could have been a suppressed sob. “I’m fine. Stop trying to fix me.” 

Their eyes meet for the longest of seconds; Leo is certain that wasn’t the end of the phrase but there’s something clouding Otabek’s dark stare, too sinister to ask about it. 

In the end, it’s Otabek who breaks contact with a tired sigh. “Let’s just have the syrniki your brought, okay?”

That was it, the word the girl at the store said! “You know what they are! And without looking into the bag!” Leo shouts out gleefully. “I didn’t know you knew about Russian food!”

“ _ I’ve lived in Russia. _ ” Otabek rolls his eyes at him. “I’ve learned the Russian language along the Kazakh. We shared a good part of our history.” 

That Leo didn’t know. In fact, if he were to pinpoint Kazakhstan on a map he wouldn’t know where to begin searching for it. All he knows is Otabek is Asian, and Asia just happens to be a really big continent. He might not know much, but it’s never too late to learn, isn’t it? “So tell me, then.” Otabek stops midway to the kitchen and barely looks over his shoulder at Leo, his face completely unreadable. “Tell about Kazakhstan. If I don’t know, then teach me.” Otabek mouths something but his words get lost in the way out. “I wanna know everything you’ll let me know about you. So let’s start by yor city. How is it like? Is it big? Are there lots of tourists? Are you from the city or the suburbs?” 

Otabek turns back around and snorts. “There’s a smile dancing on his tone, Leo can hear it. “Let me put on some coffee. You’ll probably need it.”

It’ll be an interesting afternoon after all. Leo knew his missy would never fail him. Everyone falls in love with her charms. He strokes the metal chords softly before putting her into her case again. He’ll be too busy to play with her this afternoon. 


	5. Chapter 5

Turns out Otabek warm-as-a-stone-wall-in-midwinter Altin likes music. No, more than that: he _lives for_ music. Turns out the guy is a DJ.

One of the very first things he ever did was a remix of Nothing Else Matters. A sort of industrial ballad type of remix; one of those things Leo didn’t even know existed.

They grew a bit closer, Leo reckons as he sets up his Missy on his lap while Otabek makes dinner. He plucks out the chords of a song he hasn't quite learned just yet and backtracks. He’s fallen on his hand that afternoon after flubbing a jump and his fingers still feel too stiff; his whole body does. As if it was still trying to defend itself from the blow, or the scolding. He’ll get better in time, he knows he will. He’s better than a good number of skaters his age.

But then, there’s the others. “Do you know Nekola does parkour around his city? They say that’s how he gets his stamina from. And his precision.” Otabek hums a reply. It’s not like Leo was expecting an invitation to try it, anyhow. He wants to get better but he wouldn’t risk it _that much_. “The guy’s programs are amazing, I’ll give you that. But I don’t know if I’d go for his method.”

It’s not even official; more like a rumour in the net, but Leo trusts his sources. He’s good and decoding people and filtering junk information. He knows which gossip to follow. “Phichit says Katsuki has an amazing endurance as well, but he just practices and dances most of his day.” His hands rest on the strings. That one he could do, couldn’t he? But to be honest, he’d rather train his figures before his resistance; a long program won’t give him any advantage with sloppy tricks. “I guess I could do that. I'm not sure if it’d help…” He sighs.

“Focus.” Otabek answers sternly before walking to the breakfast table with a steaming plate in each hand. He hands one of them to Leo, sitting down in front of him. “You should work on your footwork before that. You can’t do everything at the same time.”

“Really? Can’t I?” Leo chuckles after taking a bite of his meal. Otabek is a wonderful cook, even though most of the time he’s not too eager to make dinner. The day he does Leo knows he can approach Otabek easier. He always takes the chance. “And you’re telling me this, when you’re the one that has to be practically dragged off the rink because you refuse to take five?”

Otabek shrugs. “You can’t. I might.”

“Was that-?” Leo tries to keep it in but laughter bubbles out of him in a second; he chokes on his own cackles. He gives himself a second to breathe. “Was that a joke, Altin?”

Otabek smirks and looks away. He says nothing. Look at that, Stone Wall knows how to make a joke. That is definitely some improvement. Leo decides to take advantage of his good mood. “I wonder why are you so in a hurry. You’re good, Otabek. No, not that: you’re great, and different, and breathtaking. You don’t _need_ to drain yourself like that.” Leo rants, more focused on his food than on the boy listening to him across the table. If he lifts his gaze up he’ll get cold feet: he can’t allow that. Not now that he’s found his leverage. “You don’t give two shits about Nikiforov, I’ve seen that by the way you don’t even bother looking up when the guys at the rink gush about his moves. You won’t even bat an eye at Chulanont and Katsuki. No, it has to be a Junior; otherwise you could take your time to get good.”

“Is that so?” Otabek smiles at him. “What if I’m only anxious to get good enough?” He reasons and Leo lets it sink in. It’s evident it’s really important for Otabek to surpass everyone, yes, but there’s also something else lying underneath.

“You take three hours to answer anything just to be sure your choice of words won’t incriminate you in any way; in any case, you’re too cautious.”Leo rolls his eyes. Anxious, Otabek? Sounds so unrealistic. “No: there’s something else. You don’t mind much about JJ, or Micah, or my boy Guang Hong-”

“ _Your boy?”_ Otabek quirks a brow at him. “That’s new. You just met him a couple of months ago and he’s your boy?”

“It’s a figurative speech, Altin. Keep up.” Leo shrugs him off. It’s not so weird that he’s found someone interesting, right? Guang Hong is smart and has so much to say. And he’s adorable when he does so, too. What so wrong about that? “We’ve been texting a bit. He’s good, isn’t he?”

“He is. You, on the other hand,” Otabek eats slowly in between phrases and the tension seems like a hand against Leo’s throat. What is he so worried about he can’t figure out. “You’re a mess right now. A hesitating mess. Lying, even.” Otabek turns his eyes from his plate to Leo. “You’re an awful liar, Leo.”

“Don’t change the subject. This is about you.” Leo snaps and Otabek chuckles lowly. The bastard never laughs and the one time he does, it’s on Leo’s behalf! What a nerve he has! “So who’s so good it could scare badboy Altin, then? Minami? Nekola? No, you don’t give a fuck about him… Maybe Plisetsky?”

There’s a too loud clank of the fork against Otabek’s plate. Did he just got nervous all of a sudden? Or maybe-

“Seriously, Otabek? The Russian Punk?” Leo laughs. “That kid is trouble, I tell you. I’ve met him once in a competition and-”

“He’s…” Otabek hurries to cut Leo off. Funny, now he does seem anxious. “He’s something else.”

“Yeah, definitely. He’s so beautiful on the ice and then you see him off it and -” Leo huffs. He remembers the chills the small Russian kid’s eyes provoked. He’s got the eyes of a sniper: always set on the goal, always ready to kill. “I don’t know if anyone would like that guy around them.”

“I think I can manage.” Otabek mumbles, his eyes fixed on his half empty plate.

“Oh? So you’re up for it? Has Otabek Badass Altin got a crush?” Leo jokes and giggles. Love interest: checked. He’s definitely going somewhere. They’re bonding. Finally.

“Shut up and eat your dinner, Leo.” Otabek scolds him firmly. One thing he’d have never thought about is that Otabek could be in love. How adorable; love _is_ universal, after all. It gets even to the tougher of hearts around.

He can’t wait for whatever life has in store for Otabek. He just hopes to be around when it happens.

* * *

* * *

 

It’s been calm and even cozy for a while. A good while, too. Otabek would have gotten home early in the morning and sleep barely a couple of hours before training, bruised and marked, but he’d still be somehow communicative around Leo. He’d never ask about what Otabek didn’t want to talk about: he wouldn’t dare digging in either. Those were fingerprints on Otabek’s waist, he’s sure of it; he’d rather not have the details.

Apart from tough mornings and the coach starting to notice Otabek’s sudden interest in caffeine (he still hates the taste of coffee but praise Heavens for Red Bull), everything would go smoothly. Smooth enough, more like. Better than before, at least. Otabek would suddenly try and make small talk and the poor thing doesn’t even know what small talk means. Leo is good at talking, anyways- he’d just go on about his day and whatever random thoughts pop out on his head. It seems to calm Otabek down somehow, even though Leo doesn’t know the first thing as to why he’s nervous. Maybe it’s just the excess of caffeine Coach asked Leo to control, as if Otabek would ever listen to him.

Maybe it’s the nightmares.

The first time Leo thought he imagined it: he’s a heavy sleeper, after all. He would have sworn that was Otabek’s voice creeping into his dreams, a sob muffled against a pillow. And it happened more than once, too. It could have been just a dream, a recurrent one. He’s worried about Otabek, it wouldn't be that unusual.

But tonight Leo knows it’s not a dream. And the tiredness of his limbs make waking up a battle of wills, but he can hear Otabek clearly: he’s mumbling something. Talking. Crying.

Leo hates himself for not talking Kazakh right now. Or is it Russian? Anyways, it sounds like Klingon to his ears, and the fabric of the pillowcase in between Otabek’s teeth doesn’t help. Leo turns to his side to look at him and the image is heartbreaking. He can’t see Otabek’s face, pressed against his pillow, but he can clearly see the shuddering of silent sobs on his shoulders; his hands gripping tightly the mattress as if his whole world would crumble at any minute.

Leo can’t help it: he sits up on the bed and puts a hand softly on Otabek’s shoulder. The boy flinches and retreats further away, kneeling on the bed and rubbing his eyes forcefully to stop the tears from falling. His face is flush red and his lips are still quivering; who knows how long he’s been laying there crying. He talks before Leo can even dare to move. “I’m fine,” and his broken tone says otherwise.

“Fuck you!” Leo knows he’s not being of any help, but he just can’t help it: he’s been playing Otabek’s game for too long and it has gotten them nowhere. Is this what it means? For Otabek to feel completely alone while Leo waits for a signal to come closer? Fuck it, he’ll demand his place; he can’t pretend anymore. “I’ve been asking you what the hell is wrong with you for _months_ ! I’ve heard you having nightmares almost every night. I never asked a thing. The _least_ you could do is telling me why the fuck are you crying in the middle of the night!”

Otabek looks away and pursed his lips, trying to seem angry. He should be: Leo is barging into the stuff he never wanted to share but it’s only for his own good. Otabek will self destruct if no one stops him, that much Leo’s sure.

The boy mouths something, suddenly unable to find his voice and his mask shatters: a sob escapes him and tears start flowing again. He covers his face with his hands and his whole seem to tremble as he whimpers almost silently. He seems used to it, to hide himself; Leo wonders how many times he’s done that before. Around him. He asks again but Otabek simply can’t stop crying into his hands.

Leo falls into his last ace under his sleeve; he could use a bit of something to soothe his nerves as well. He walks to the closet: under the double bottom in the last drawer, where he keeps his family’s letters and postcards. There’s a Pringles can with a plastic bag and some rolling paper. He tried the good way; this is the only thing left to do. That and opening the window.

Otabek lifts his eyes almost immediately. Because of the smoke for sure; it’s a pretty obvious smell. He rubs the tears off his eyes and looks at him, confused. Leo only sits back on the bed to offer the joint to him. “Since when do-?” Otabek starts and Leo chuckles a sad laughter. _Now_ Otabek talks. To judge him.

“Two, three years ago?” Leo responds as if it was the most obvious thing. “Anxiety attacks, stage fright, you name it. It helps.”

Otabek hesitates. He smokes, that much Leo is sure of. He’s smoked inside the house when Leo was away. And he’s one experienced drinker, too. To think how he never tried weed is, well, shocking at some point.

Maybe Leo finally has something to teach him.

It takes Otabek a couple of tries, and he choked on the smoke once or twice, but he gets the hang of it pretty soon, laying on his back in the mattress with his hand hanging over the edge of the bed. Leo remembers their code at the back of his mind: don’t touch him, don’t ask too much, don’t mention the night escapades. However. It seems far too tucked in now as he drapes himself over Otabek’s chest to take the joint from between his fingers. He doesn’t even bother sitting up, smoking with one hand holding his body up on Otabek’s stomach; he feels the vibration of a muffled laughter and Otabek turning to the side underneath him to launch him back onto the bed.

Leo pouts and puff out his cheeks but Otabek laughs again, his eyes still swollen but so much more relaxed. “Couldn’t breathe.” Otabek explains himself; Leo shrugs and decides it’s as good a reason as any. Specially because it doesn’t mean he can’t touch him anymore. He retreats and curls against Otabek’s side, breathing slowly against the nape of Otabek’s neck. His lotion feels inviting; Leo wonders how the hell can he still smell it. That thing’s good for sure.

He takes a drag and hands the joint over; Otabek practically rolls over him to take it. “You’re nice.” Leo lets out, his eyes barely opened in between the wedd and his own exhaustion. It must be, what, two in the morning? Still, it seems like the best use of his time right now. “Why don’t we ever sleep like this? You’re nice and warm and smell good.” Leo turns to throw his arms around Otabek’s middle and hug him closer. This time there’s no resistance: Otabek puts his hand around Leo’s shoulders, his gaze fixed on the stained ceiling.

“You’re touchy,” Otabek states and Leo snorts. Well, yeah, now that he can he will be taking every chance he gets.

“Is that bad?” Leo mumbles,trying to get to Otabek’s better side. “You never slept like that with people?”

Then Otabek actually _flinches._ It sounded nasty but Leo noticed a bit too late and the words were already out. Otabek brings the joint to his lips; there a long silent second where Leo can only hear the beating of Otabek’s heart against his temple. “Only with my sisters.” He finally says and something in Leo suddenly awakes; the mist of sleep gone from his eyes.

“You have sisters? Are they younger or older?” He props up on his hands, Otabek’s hand falling limp from his shoulder. “Do they know about the Russian Punk?”

“ _Kişkentay xanzada_. Little Prince.” Otabek corrects him. “My little sister thinks he looks like a prince on the ice, as if we were all about to vow to him.”

“That’s so cute and also terrifying!” Leo coos: of course even a little child could see how threatening Yuri Plisetsky’s presence could be, but she sees it different than he does. He sees a sniper, never missing a bullet; she sees a monarch displaying the gifts His Grace has given him. The Russian kid is gifted, that part is certain. “Do they know him?”

Otabek looks at him now, tilting his head to a side. “Know him? No, I haven’t seen him since I was twelve.” He fall back onto the mattress. “And that was for about a month or so. I don’t think he’s ever noticed me.”

“I bet he will; you’re impressive, dude.” Leo tries to cheer him up; something clutching his chest tell him he needs to.

“I’m no one.” Otabek answers quickly. “Not yet. And he’s the next Russian Legend. He was born to skate. I wasn’t.”

“Well….” Leo can’t argue with that: truth is both are struggling to get better. They have shed sweat and blood and tears on the ice and they’ll keep doing so. Nothing has come easy for them. But Yuri seems to have been molded from the Ice itself, like he can hear what it needs from him. He’s never thought of himself as ‘meant to be an ice skater.’ No, it took compromise and sacrifice and he can’t just deny that. “That only makes it more valuable, don’t you think?” He takes Otabek’s hand, still lying forgotten between the sheets. “We haven’t gotten it easy; we have fallen so much we couldn’t count the times even if we wanted to. We’ll build ourselves as some of the greatest ice skaters in our generation, and that won’t happen because of fate. It’ll happen because of will and strength and a lot of sacrifice. And by the time we’ll stand together with medal around our necks, you’ll know it.” He talks vehemently with a force he didn’t know he had inside of him; even Otabek seems shocked about it. “Yuri will know it. The world will. Fate and being gifted does shit if you don’t work hard enough. And you do, we do. It matters.”

Otabek falls silent. Shit, was that too much? To be honest Leo wasn’t even thinking about it; he just felt he had to say something. All the rest was just improvisation. It felt right at the moment; now he feels guilty. Until he feels the hand in between his curling around him, pulling him forward.

Is Otabek hugging him? Really? “Is everything alright, Ot-?”

“Just shut up for a second.” Otabek murmurs into his ear. “You’re overwhelming.”

Funny, coming from the guy who’s pretty much put Leo through constant stress since the day he moved in. Leo giggles, and damn it, he shouldn’t have: he knows when he starts laughing while stoned he won’t stop until he’s out of breath. “Am I? And you’re not?”

“You talk a lot.” Otabek lets go to prop himself against the headboard. “I’m dizzy.” He says as if it were an excuse to shut Leo up. He pouts and the bedhead and starry eyes make him looks like a lost child throwing a tantrum. “Don’t.” He huffs and thinks for a bit. “Sing to me.”

Leo keeps chuckling, unable to stop himself. In between how bizarre the demand seems to be ands how adorable Otabek looks while making it, he feels his brain is about to shortcircuit trying to make sense of it all. “What?”

“Please sing to me?” Otabek tries again, sweeter this time and Leo doesn’t have the strength to say no to that. Not like that: he has to stop himself for kissing the guy’s forehead and hug him breathless.

“I can’t play for shit, Otabek.”Leo says slowly in order to control the laughing fit. He’ll need his voice, after all. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know.” Otabek shrugs and his eyes fall on the bedside table, where their phones are. His phone, huh? Leo could work with that. “Just sing.”

Leo crawls over Otabek’s stomach to get to the phone. The one with the black case and the weird letters on the front. He props himself back into place, under Otabek’s arm, clicking on the obvious music icon and shuffling through the playlist. He doesn’t know over half of these: he can’t even read the name of most of those artists.

There is one he knows through and through, though. A band he can work with. He presses play and a soft guitar chord fills the air in a second. The hand on his shoulder starts tapping the tempo softly: Otabek knows this one by heart, doesn’t he?

[ _Pearls and swine bereft of me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zZKAZu50ok)

_Long and weary my road has been_   
_  
_ Leo follows the beat on his shoulder, the pounding of Otabek’s heart against his ear. It feels like an anthem to life. A plea. _Please stay with me, through every storm._ And Otabek follows. Leo is not alone, he finally isn’t.

Otabek isn’t either.

At last he noticed.

_I am not your rolling wheels, I am the Highway…_

Otabek starts purring the words softly, eyes closed and a weight lifted off his shoulders. Leo can feel it, can hear it in his voice: he’s calm as he’s never been before. Not around him. His voice reminds him of dripping honey and candlelights and a tight embrace under the rain. Something too sweet, too pure in the middle of the mud.

Leo knows there’s more than dirt and darkness in Otabek. There’s more than words unsaid and night time obsessions, more than bleeding on the ice to prove your worth. Otabek has nothing to prove. He’s the strongest man Leo has never known. Not because he’s never been broken, but because he knows he can pull himself together.

It’s not love the warmth Leo feels on his chest right now, as they let the words of the next song absentmindedly slip off them; he knows love and it doesn’t feel like this. This is strong and would carry Leo to the ends of the world and back in the blink of an eye, yet he couldn’t ask for any more than this. He doesn’t need Otabek around him, not really; he just wants him to be happy. Wants to see him strive.

Leo is not in love. This is not romantic. This is admiration. Devotion.

This is all he’s ever wanted since day one, and he won’t let it get away. He’ll make Otabek happy; that’s his mission.

He’ll see Otabek become the best skater he can be. He’ll see him find love. He’ll see him smile unashamedly, fearless for once.

But right now, he’ll get up to make some snacks.


	6. Chapter 6

“Wow, you look radiant today.” Leo giggles behind his mug: Otabek strolls into the kitchen with a fresh poured cup of coffee in his hand, all bedhead and dark circles under his barely open eyes. He drops himself on the bar stool a bit too heavily; he hasn’t slept all night, hasn’t he?

“Fuck you, Leo.” He dismisses the boy, choosing a syrup to intoxicate his coffee with. Leo has taken the habit to buy a new coffee creamer every time he goes grocery shopping; there’s a pretty big collection of them as a centerpiece from where Otabek makes his choice of the day. The really intense vanilla flavored one seems to be his favorite: Leo takes mental note of that. 

Otabek still drinks his coffee as if it was medicine; it’d hardly do much this time. “So,” Leo walks around the table to let his hands fall on Otabek’s shoulder. “Why haven’t you come back to bed last night?” He brushes a strand of hair of Otabek’s forehead to make him look up. “To any bed, probably.”

“I was in bed.”Otabek shrugs Leo off, trying to absentmindedly sip his coffee. He still grimaces at the taste. “Just not yours.”

“ _ Is that so, Altin?” _ Leo dramatically wails, a hand over his heart as if it suddenly stopped beating. “Are you cheating on me?” 

“You have to be kid-” Otabek rolls his eyes and turn around to an overly exaggerated heartbroken Leo, crocodile tears and all. He can’t help but to snicker through his teeth. “You’ve watched too many soap operas as a child, haven’t you?” 

“You’d have loved them too.” Leo giggles and sits right by Otabek’s side, putting a hand on the boy’s arm. Otabek doesn’t flinch at his touch anymore; half of the times he even smiles at his advances. Shyly, but still there. “So? Do I need to know the name?” 

“No need.” Otabek states simply. 

“I see. Still saving ourselves for true love?” Leo coos. The boy is still thinking about his Russian Punk, huh? Leo can see every day at the rink how fast Otabek progresses, how much he wears himself thin. The determination on his eyes . Their mates more often than not ask Leo about him since he’s too terrifying to approach for themselves. 

And, of course, rumours say they’re dating. Leo was expecting that, to be honest: they’ve been literally sleeping together for the past six months. And he does mean  _ sleeping, _ but people usually understand otherwise. If they only knew.

If they only knew how frustrating this guy could be. Otabek bites into an oatmeal cookie (Leo’s favorite brand but Otabek’s preferred variety. Talk about compromising.) and lets a long second pass before replying. “Are we talking about  _ your boy _ suddenly?” 

Leo laughs nervously. It’s funny how easily Otabek can change the subject; it’s like he’s been specially trained to avoid being a conversation topic. It’s one thing Leo has never quite mastered. “Guang Hong is fine; he’ll be coming on the off season to see us. You’d love him: he’s so nice and adorable and-”

“Do you want me out?” Otabek cuts him short. “From the apartment, I mean. I can rent a place.”

“Can you? Then you’re freeloading  _ why?” _ Leo jokes and it comes out a bit too harsh, by the way Otabek’s face twist into a frown. Leo freezes as Otabek looks away and begins tidying his side of the table. 

Leo fucked up. Something sinks into his chest as Otabek gets up to walk to the kitchen; he takes a sharp breath, like a knife through his ribs, and stands up on too heavy legs. He needs to do something. And now. 

He walks slowly to Otabek and hugs him from behind forcefully enough for Otabek to hold onto the counter in order not to fall forward. His heart is beating fast; Leo can feel it pulsing against his joined hands on Otabek’s waist. 

“I can leave.” Otabek lets out in a whisper. Of course he can: he could have left two weeks after he moved in. He could have left two days in. He never had to stay. It was never a permanent thing. 

That doesn’t mean Leo wants him out. “You don’t have to.” Leo whisper against the boy’s back. He can feel the tension on his shoulders, the twitch when Leo’s breath brushes against the line of Otabek’s back. “I don’t want you to.” He tugs at Otabek’s shirt to make him turn but there’s no answer. “You’re capable of stop talking to me altogether if you do and I won’t let you.”  _ You’re capable of hurting yourself more than you already do, _ he means, but he doesn’t have the guts to say out loud.

Leo doesn’t really thinks of himself as Otabek’s sitter, but there’s one thing he can’t deny. Even when Otabek protects him from bullies and creeps at bars and concerts, he can’t see the damage he puts himself through. Someone has to bring him back to a lighter place than his own twisted mind; Leo has no clue what’s wrong with Otabek, he’d never ask, but one thing’s for sure. He won’t let Otabek fall, he won’t let him give in. Otabek is a warrior, marked by his battles but still standing, and Leo made a personal mission to make sure he never quits. If Otabek does, Leo will have no strength to live up to, no hero to follow. He likes to think they need each other: he’s not too sure Otabek needs him as much. 

Specially when Otabek doesn’t answer. Leo holds him tighter just to vanish the feeling of drifting off of him. “We’re friends, right?” He buries his face against the back of Otabek’s neck; the faint smell of his musky cologne calms him down. “I do care about you.” He murmurs, begging for some sort of reciprocity. 

Otabek holds his hands but says nothing. He’d straight up reject him if he wanted to; he doesn’t sugar coat. Leo just has to take it as a display of affection; Otabek is bad with those, after all. “You’re making a fuss.” He finally speaks, a smile dangling from his words. 

“No,  _ you are.” _ Leo pouts and giggles. “And I’d miss your grumpy ass too much so don’t go anywhere, okay?” He adds, rubbing his nose against Otabek’s back as he tries to slip off. 

“We need to get to the rink, Leo. It’s late.” Otabek whines and Leo looks up at the kitchen clock. It is late. They have around fifteen minutes to get dressed and get to the rink.

“Fuck, it  _ is _ late.” Leo jumps off of Otabek to get his duffle bag ready but Otabek moves too slowly to be in any rush, toeing his shoes on. “Come on, man, we need to get out  _ now. _ ” 

“We’ll get there on time.” 

“No we’re not; hurry or we won’t!” Leo turns to him fiddling with his motorcycle keys.

Otabek responds calmly. “Trust me. We will.” 

Leo hopes that means they’ll get there in one piece. And on time; otherwise it’ll be their coach who will be crushing them to pieces on the ice. But it’ll be one fun ride for sure.

* * *

 

“Had fun last night, boys?” The coach smiles at them as they arrived barely a couple of minutes late, but so obviously rushing. Otabek’s got dark circles under his eyes and Leo’s white as a sheet from the ride. They’ve been snaking around cars and passing by red lights in order to get in time and Leo feels his heart racing, almost pushing out of his ribcage. 

The coach is cool more often than not, firm but nice; she’s pulling their leg but Otabek doesn’t even crack a smile. “Ma’am, sorry about the delay.”

“You’re fine, just go and change. We’ll be starting with warm-up in a minute.” She dismisses them to turn to the rest of her apprentices but still speaks up. “Oh, and Altin.” She smirks: Leo can hear it in her voice. “Maybe a full night sleep once in a while won’t kill you, huh?” 

He stops, frowns but says nothing and keeps walking. Leo was waiting for a clever comeback but he’s more clever than to fight with authority. Specially with the one woman that can make him skate until he drops dead. He’s not that stupid. 

They change quickly and move on with the day’s training without inconvenience. Otabek looks exhausted but he keeps on pushing his limits; the way he holds himself up against the rink walls is defiant. He won’t take a step back, even if he has to sacrifice his own health. It’s terrifying. 

But he still doesn’t notice the looks, the whispers. The way people turn their eyes when he smiles at Leo; he only smiles at Leo, despite everything. And if Leo knows anything about people, those little smirks on the crowd around them means gossip, and gossip could mean trouble. He needs to make sure everything will be alright; Otabek’s been calm for a good while, Leo needs to keep him that way. 

“Hey, dudes, where are we going for lunch today?” He approaches the group on the lockers grinning. Otabek always changes either after everyone left or in one of the booths. At first, Leo would assume shyness or just looking to be left alone, but now he knows better. He’s seen Otabek at home after a shower, or rolling around in bed unable to sleep. His body is splattered in reds and blues, a sickly yellow mark around each wrist underneath the leather wristbands. No one with a bit of common sense could blame all of those on the ice; no one’s that dense. Leo knows he doesn’t. But at least there’s a silver lining: Otabek’s need to hide gives Leo the chance to interrogate his mates without screwing it up too much. Leo the Detective is back and ready for action. 

“Aren’t you going home with your… roommate today?” Lisa says with a smirk, a hint of mischief slipping off her tongue.

But that’s her, really: Leo fails to take her comment personally. “Well, I guess I wanted to hang out with you today. “ He nods in Otabek’s direction. “He needs some rest anyways.” He points out and someone  _ snorts. _

How is that funny?

“He must have been going at it non-stop, I bet.” Lisa strikes again and Leo can feel the challenge, yet he still can’t pinpoint where the trick is.

“Well, yeah. He’s like that, y’know? He doesn’t know when to stop.” Leo scratches the back of his head, uncomfortable. There’s something he’s missing here and it’s bothering him to no end, but he won’t be missing the chance to put on a good word for Otabek. “He goes on until he can’t feel his legs anymore; it’s unreal.” 

Lisa chuckles. He’s doing it all wrong, isn’t he?”and how do you deal with that? Can you keep up?” He seems like,” she pauses to lick her lips. What is her problem? “Like a lot to handle.”She brushes her hair off her shoulder to put on her jacket without breaking eye contact. She’s too curious today.

“He’s a handful, alright”, Leo giggles to try and ease the tension on his own body. “But I can keep up with him just fine. He’s great company if you give him the chance.” He smiles wide and Julien jumps into their conversation.

“I don’t think we can, you see.” He he says with a click of his tongue. “People talk. They say he freaked out when someone tried to talk to you at a pub last weekend.” He brushes his knuckles against his nose. “That he dragged the poor bastard to the back alley and kicked him bloody.”

Leo remembers that night perfectly; they didn’t get to catch more than a couple of drinks when Otabek went to the restrooms. And the stranger, well, he didn’t try to speak to Leo; he slapped his ass so hard he pushed Leo against the bar he was leaning on. And Otabek didn’t even drag him anywhere: he just headbutted the guy’s nose and stood protectively in between Leo and him. There wasn’t even a proper fight; the guy just spat out every swear word in the book and ran off. The bloody part is true, at least. And that Otabek didn’t leave Leo’s side for the rest of the night after that. 

And maybe the phrase “get the fuck away from my man” might have been said at some point to someone trying to invite Leo somewhere ‘quieter so we can get to know each other’. 

It finally dawns on Leo. shit, Otabek will have his head if he find out Leo unknowingly just confirmed to everyone they’re dating. Not that they are, or that Leo has said anything about it, but he’s been tricked into nodding to their nonsense. 

“Listen,” He tries to sound stern, hoping they can hear the hesitation in his voice as much as he can,” We’re not-”

“Leo.”  Otabek seems to appear behind his back from out of thin air, and Leo yelps. “Are you coming home or not?”

Home. Leo can feel the snickering in the room but he focuses his gaze on lisa’s defiant smirk. This is not worth fighting over. It doesn’t really matter what their rink mates think of them after all: Otabek is his dear friend and  _ home _ always includes him. 

“Just in time to save your damsel in distress, as always, huh?” Julien jokes and his laughter rapidly echoes on the rest of the group. Leo wishes he had the guts to punch the idiot right in his big fat mouth. 

Otabek just lifts a brow at them. “Is there something wrong?” He asks, his voice a monotone, as always, but Leo knows he’s confused. 

Better that than angry, he supposes, but he can’t guarantee he won’t be pissed when he knows the whole ordeal. Fuck, Leo doesn’t even know how to explain this mess. “Just don’t pay too much attention.” He sighs. “It’s just-” Just what? A misunderstanding? Some intentional pettines? He knows for a fact Lisa’s been trying to get Otabek’s attention since day one but the guy doesn’t even look her way. She’s always been into bad boys; it was to be expected. 

“Never have.” Otabek cuts him short. “I’m asking you.”  Otabek takes a step forward, his eyes locked to Leo’s, and put a protective hand on Leo’s back. “Is there something wrong?” 

Leo can see Lisa gritting her teeth behind her seemingly polite smile. Julien lifts a brow and smirks. Whatever; they all can play this game. Otabek seems to be up for it anyhow. “Nah, it’s nothing. Don’t worry.” Leo takes the hand off his back and intertwine their fingers to walk right into the middle of the crowd watching them. “Let’s just go home.” 

Otabek, surprisingly, offers no resistance and follows him close. They silently walk to the bike and Otabek kicks it on. Neither of them remembered the battery is dead. For over two weeks now. He waits for Leo to hop on behind him to ask. “So what was all that about, exactly?” 

“You see,” Leo giggles nervously, adjusting the strap on his helmet. ”It’s silly really… Also, we might be dating now.”

“Not in your wildest dreams.” Otabek snaps back. He doesn’t sound mad. Good.

“It wasn’t my idea, it was  _ them.” _ Leo groans, huffing like a kid throwing a tantrum. He learnt soon enough Otabek is weak around children. He even kneeled on the sidewalk once to put her leather jacket around some little girl’s shoulders just because she asked nicely. And because she  _ reminded him of someone _ , whatever that means. If that’s not adorable, Leo can’t tell what is. 

That doesn’t mean the trick has ever worked on him though. “Fine, and you didn’t correct them, why?” He pauses for a second and his voice changes subtly. “Did they try anything-?”

“They’re nice folks, man!” Leo interrupts him. “It was all their idea. I did not confirm nor deny anything.” He says solemnly. “Which doesn’t really help our case.” He finishes with a giggle. He can feel Otabek rolling his eyes at him. 

Well, that could have gone much worse, considering the thing the guys made Leo confirm. They must think they fuck like rabbits and that’s why Otabek hardly ever sleeps. They’re not entirely wrong though: Leo is certain Otabek has some good company the nights he doesn’t spend at home. He gets busy for sure. 

And he is a handful, that much is true. More than one, too. Hah. Ha ha. Wait.

Shit.

Leo waits for the light to turn green so the traffic noise hides most of his words. He feels he  _ has _ to tell Otabek about it, but if the boy doesn’t catch up and turn to punch his teeth in, that’s fine as well. “And I just might have confirmed them you’re hung like a horse, but that’s just a det-” 

Otabek turns suddenly to the sidewalk in between loud car honks and turns off the bike to look at Leo. Okay, now he’s pissed. “You said  _ what. _ ”

“I didn’t realize, they were throwing too much stuff to me at once, I just wanted to put on a good word for you-” Leo tries to explain. He doesn’t even know how accurate his excuse is, it all just happened so fast. 

“You tried to defend me like that?” It’s scary how Otabek’s voice doesn’t even tremble when he’s angry. He keeps his neutral tone but there’s fire in his gaze. Leo has never seen him furious before, and he could live happily if he never does again. 

“No! That was them! I just didn’t notice. It’s-” Ridiculous, that’s what it is. A silly rumour. “It’s not even a lie, if those morning hardons have something to say about it-”

“Leo.” Otabek interrupts his rant. Good, ‘cause he wasn’t going anywhere with it. Only further down into the pit. “Do I really need to ask you not to talk about the size of my cock?”

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t!” Leo puts his hand on Otabek’s shoulder, looking for compassion but he only gets a huff as Otabek shrugs him off. “They lured me in!” 

“I don’t give two shits about them. It’s you. You’re…” Otabek hesitates. He’s calculating his words, why is he calculating his words? Why can’t he just be honest? “You’re constantly around, you of all people should know I don’t like to be the subject of gossip. You shouldn’t be the one to feed the fire.” Now his voice feels strained, his gaze never leaving Leo’s for a second. 

“And you, of all people, should know I don’t like people talking shit about you!” Leo replies, shocked at the resentment in his own voice. He’s been scolded for defending his friend? Well, fuck him: that’s not gonna stop him. He’s trying his best not to be too aggressive, but there’s a sharp end to his words nonetheless. “I’m not letting them say you’re violent, or I don’t know,  _ problematic.”  _ He adds with a grimace. 

Otabek chuckles; Leo knows that gesture. He hates it; the sarcastic laugh Otabek lets out when he feels trapped. “You have no idea who I am. You specifically avoid it. You don’t want to know.” Otabek doesn’t go on but Leo knows how that sentence ends.  _ How can you tell they’re wrong? _

“You dense moron, what you do when you get out of the house  _ doesn’t matter. _ ” It really does; Leo is just too afraid to not being able to deal with whatever it is Otabek’s going through. “I don’t care if there’s a hospital wing filled with people you knocked out on a street fight- Fuck, I couldn’t care less if you killed someone for their bike and threw the remains on the river! You’re a nice man and nothing can convince me otherwise. Not them.  _ Not you. _ ” 

Otabek grows silent for a too long second in which they just stare into each other’s eyes, fighting a battle of the wills none is willing to lose. A battle none can really win. 

Finally, Otabek gives in and sighs, turning his back to Leo. “There’s just no point with you.” He kicks the bike on a bit too harshly and it whines and sputters before giving in after the first couple of tries. Otabek drives them home in complete silence. It’s probably better this way: if Leo listens Otabek putting himself down again like that he’ll just have to slap that idiot’s sense back into him. He huffs and holds the boy close anyways, leaning on his back. Leo is mad at him but that doesn't mean he doesn’t care any less.

Otabek opens the door of the apartment for him and lets him in, but before Leo can say anything to make truce he struts to the kitchen to take a half bottle of vodka they pretty much hid on the highest cabinet on the house and walks out with a slam of the door. 

Well, you know what? Fuck him too. It’s not like Leo is meant to be babysitting him anyways. He’s a grown up and he can take care of himself, right? As much of a grown up as Leo is, anyways. But with a bike. And booze. 

Leo drops himself onto one of the bar stools. He just hopes the guy’s fine. He needs Otabek to be fine. Safe. 

God damn him; he won’t be sleeping tonight, isn’t he?

* * *

 

Lunch is calm: a bit of box mac and cheese and a soft playlist in the background. The afternoon goes by in a flash in between a well-deserved nap and the tunes plucked out of his Missy. 

By the time he’s ready for bed Leo’s checked his phone probably over a thousand times over the course of the day and feels like he hasn’t rested in thirty years. And he’s fifteen. 

He sighs sitting on the edge of his bed and cracks his back. Otabek is making an old man out of him. All that tension bubbling up. And not even a talk with his brother can soothe him right now. He needs Otabek back. 

He barely gets to pull the covers over his head when he feels the hallway lights sneaking into the apartment and the door being shut carefully. The boy is back, huh? Leo pretends he’s asleep just to see what happens. He hears the bathroom door, the shower. 

He feels eyes on his back as soon as the shower gets turned off and the bathroom door opens again, the lights still on. “I know you are awake.” Otabek says dryly. Of course he knows. Leo turns around: Otabek’s leaning on the closed door, not even looking at him. Serious. Too serious, even. Is he still mad? 

“Look, dude, I-” He starts but in total honesty, he has no clue of what to say. Sorry? He’s not sorry. He won’t ever stop defending him. He spoke too much? Otabek knows that already; he doesn’t need to hear it again. 

“I don’t get it.” Otabek finally speaks. Well, that doesn’t say much, does it? Yet, Leo gives him the time to put his thoughts in order. He knows his own are all knotted together and make no sense at all at this point. Otabek lets himself slide down until he sits on the floor with a sigh. “I’ve never been specially nice to you. I don’t get it.” 

“Why I like you? Really?” Leo tries his best not to laugh but the guy is really unbelievable. They’ve been together for months and he doesn’t understand Leo likes him to be around? 

“Don’t laugh, Leo.” Otabek pouts at him and looks away again. His moves are wobbly and his eyes seem to be unable to focus in one place for too long. 

“You’re drunk.” Leo snickers and he knows very well he shouldn’t. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Otabek replies to fall silent again. There’s a faint smell of cigarette smoke coming from him; he’s been drinking and smoking, but he doesn’t look hurt. Not more than he was this morning, at least. The boy is an idiot, dense beyond belief and drunk out of his senses. 

Leo needs to do this quickly so he can put Otabek to bed: the guy really needs a break. “Listen, you know how you’re good on the ice, right? And with motorcycles and, I don’t know, hookups I guess. Well, I’m good with people. And I say you deserve the world.” He speaks slowly, as if he was trying to explain quantum physics to Otabek. He feels trying to explain to tabek people actually like him is a much more difficult task than that, after all. 

Otabek snorts. “I’m awful on the ice; all I’ve learned I did it on my own effort. And I’ve been forgetting to change the damn battery on the bike for weeks-” He shakes his head. “People don’t like me, Leo. They either stay away or…” He sighs, letting his head rest against the wall. “They just don’t.”

“Of course they don’t, you  _ don’t let them. _ ” Leo giggles. “Damn, coach put a hand on your shoulder and you glared at it as if you were going to bite it off. Of course they stay away.” He sits on the bed and stretches out his arms as if he was showing something. “I’ve been trying to get close for months, man. Throw me a bone here. Do you really believe I don’t like you?”

Otabek looks at him. Examines him. He takes his time to reply. “We live together.” 

“ _ No shit, Sherlock.” _ Otabek winces at Leo’s words and the boy burst out laughing. “I could have kicked you out, remember? I want you here. And I need to know you’re alright, so I’d like you to stop fucking disappearing on me, too.” Otabek huffs and rolls his eyes. Fucking teenagers. Leo has to repress the grin. “I love you, man; don’t make me have to say it  _ to them _ in order for you to believe me.” Otabek lifts a brow at him. Does he really have to explain himself now? Is Otabek that thick? “I don’t mean, like love love, y’know but-” Leo hesitates for a second. “If you’d crash your bike I’d cry, dude. So, please don’t crash your bike?” Leo offers with a smile. 

Otabek frowns. He mouths something but regrets it the second after; there’s a tiny hint of a smirk dancing in his lips. “It’s a expensive one: I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t dare.” 

“ _ You better not. _ ” Leo scolds him. “Now, Drama Queen, could you please stop denying my undying love for you on get on the bed? I actually like to sleep at night, if you don’t mind.” He adds with a too exaggerated rolls of his eyes and a hardly contained smile. 

Otabek huffs and lifts himself off the ground on wobbly legs. Whatever he’s been doing all day, he looks drained out. At least that makes him easier to handle: the guy climbs over him and across to get to the other side of the bed. He turns his back to Leo, as he always does, but takes Leo’s hand in his to pull it across his waist. 

“What’s with you tonight?” Leo chuckles softly against Otabek’s back. It’s not like it bothers him at all; Leo loves to sleep holding something, and Otabek works perfect as a teddy bear. He’s warm and smells nice, too. Apart from the smoke still lingering on his hair. 

“Isn’t that with boyfriends do?” Otabek says as if he was talking about the weather. So he’s playing this game, too? He squeezes Leo’s hand and lets go, but Leo doesn’t move away. Instead, he gets closer against Otabek’s back. “I’ve been alone enough for one day.” He murmurs, and Leo hugs him tight, burying his nose in between Otabek’s shoulder blades.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not letting you go.”

He wonders if Otabek can feel the smile pressed against his skin. He hopes he does. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you have nephews, Otabek?” Leo shoots up as soon as he sees his roommate walking out the bathroom, his eyes barely open. “You have an older sister, right?“ He munches quietly on one of the muffins a neighbour brought him. Some kid’s birthday, she said; he was too asleep to catch the names but not enough to turn down some party’s leftovers. 

Otabek mutters a ‘no’ and sits heavily on the barstool in front of Leo. He’s still out of it, huh? Leo prepares a too sweetened cup of coffee to leave in front of Otabek along with a chocolate muffin. Coach isn’t gonna notice the sugar rush anyways, and it might help Otabek get on his feet. 

“Haven't you said that before? So no siblings then?” He sips his coffee absentmindedly as Otabek brushes his fingertips against the warmth of his mug. 

“No.” Otabek replies dryly. “Just-” He suppresses a yawn and gulps his coffee, still wincing at the taste. Still not sweet enough? It was awful to Leo’s standards already. “Stop.”

Leo raises his brows at the boy but says nothing as they finish their breakfast in silence. Tough morning today; Otabek has been turning around on the bed all night. He surely hasn’t been sleeping well. Not that this is any news: Lately Otabek has been prone to nightmares and insomnia. It’s all good as long as he gets his personal space.

Leo gets up to take both their cups to the sink and wash them. The steaming hot water against  his hands does wonders to shake off the drowsiness of the obnoxiously cold day. Leo hates the winter weather, especially in here: the building is too old and the apartment feels like a freezer. At least he gets to sleep with someone who’s always so conveniently warm, but it doesn't help much when that someone doesn’t actually sleep. 

Well, at least he warms the bed in his turns, right? 

Leo hears something muffled by the sound of the water against the metal sink. “What was that?”

He can feel Otabek rolling his eyes and chuckles. He doesn’t even need to turn to figure out his expressions. That’s a victory on Leo’s book. “Three.”

“Three what?” Leo asks too casually to be somewhat honest. He knows Otabek can read right through that. 

“Three siblings. Two nephews.” Otabek answers quickly. Leo turns to see Otabek staring at his hands. He’s not smiling. Why is he not smiling? Nephews are happy news, aren’t they?

“And how are they?” He asks excitedly, covering the distance to the nearest seat in a second; he needs to know everything there is to know about Otabek’s family  _ now _ . “How old are they? Are they like your little sister, or is it different to be an older brother?  _ How is your sister, _ after all?”

Otabek frowns at him. Okay, maybe Leo asked too much too sudden: there’s a lot to say and Otabek is a man of calculated words. But man, Leo needs to know. He just got the news: he needs to be ready. 

“She’s a hellspawn.” Otabek finally concedes and Leo can’t begin to understand what it means. “Our older sister says the shorter we are, the more mischievous we get.” He smirks and Leo giggles.The height thing is a common joke amongst siblings of all places, huh? “Easy for her to say, she’s the only one who passed 5’6 so far.” Otabek says in a huff, mockingly offended. 

“So, she’s an elf in a house of hobbits?”  Leo laughs; Otabek scoffs and him, the tiniest of smiles barely curving his lips. “How are the kids, though?” The boy distractedly plays around making figures with his fingernails against the wooden bar. 

“Don’t know.” Otabek replies in a tiny murmur. “I guess they’re a year old now. No, not yet I think.” He looks down, focusing on his fingers seemingly trying to carve a hole in the wood. 

“You don’t know? How can you not know?” Leo’s voice grows an octave higher. How can the guy have babies in his family and not bother to meet them? Not that Leo can expect someone like him to be good with children, but they’re family. You don’t refuse your family. “They’re babies! Babies are cute! Can you imagine a little baby with your… frown?” 

Otabek, to set the perfect example of how that would look like, pouts. “I haven’t been home since I was eleven, Leo. It wasn’t exactly my choice.”

Ouch. Bad move. Leo needs to fix it quick. “I know, I know, but - don’t you talk to your sister, like,  _ a lot? _ ” 

“The twins- they’re not my sister’s. They’re my brother’s.” Otabek deadpans but Leo is positive he's seen the boy wince. 

“So two sisters and a brother, huh?” he repeats matter-of-factly. Otabek barely nods. “And what's his deal? I think you'd be an awesome uncle.”  _ Taking kiddies into moshpits, probably.  _

“He's-” Otabek starts but falls silent for too long a second. “We don't talk much. “ 

Oh. Leo’s stepping into dangerous territory and he’s too good at asking the exact thing he shouldn’t. Retreat. “Sorry to hear that, man. Thing will get better, I'm sure of it.” 

Otabek looks away, resting his chin on his palm. “What’s with all the questions? You’re oddly curious today.” He frowns at nothing in particular but Leo knows it’s because of him. 

He gulps. He’s not supposed to tell. It’s a pretty recent thing; what if he jinxs it? “I’m  _ always _ curious, dude, you know it. I just-” Quick, think of something! “I just thought you’d look adorable around kiddies.”  Awful save but it works; Otabek rolls his eyes at him and leaves to fetch his laptop. That could have gone much worse; instead, Otabek just goes for his ‘talking time is over’ signal. Leo decides to drop it and focus on his schoolwork. 

It’s been kicking his ass lately; with the extra hours he has to put on the rink to get ready for the upcoming season he hardly has any time to focus on anything else. And reading while he stretches like his rink mates do? Well, he just can’t focus on two things at the same time; he ends up reading the same sentence over and over. He’s never had any trouble with school but he needs the time to focus on it. 

Otabek is a different story altogether. He can’t just leave thing for the day after. He’s already been scolded more than once for relying too much on caffeine and too little on a normal sleeping pattern. He’s had to be, let’s call it ‘scorted out’ off the ice for being about to fade due to exhaustion and being incredible hardheaded to take a break like normal people do. 

Leo realizes he drifted off his reading again when he finds himself reading the same paragraph for the tenth time in a row. He lifts his gazed to see Otabek sitting back in front of him, obscured by the screen of his laptop and the huge headphones around his ears. 

Fuck it: Leo just can’t concentrate on anything else today. “So, what are babies like?” Leo has never been with one for long: he’s the youngest of his family, after all. 

Otabek barely moves his eyes from the screen to twist his mouth at him. “What’s gotten into you?” He snaps back and focus back on his mixes or whatever it is he’s doing there. He could be binge watching cat videos for all Leo knows. “They sleep, then puke on you, then go back to sleep.” He grimaces. “It’s like they’re made of drool: suddenly it’s everywhere and you have to change ten times a day. And they insist on sharing food that’s already been on their mouths with you.” That being said, Otabek dismisses Leo and just goes back to…. whatever. Who knows. But it’s clearly important to him. 

Leo stares. Otabek just covered his weekly word quota in under a minute. And talking about babies, no less. Man, he was inspired. And passionate. Otabek likes babies.  _ Otabek Badass Altin likes babies.  _ And knows all there is to know about them, too, apparently. 

It takes a while for Leo to find his voice again after the sudden shock.  _ “Dude. _ ” Okay, that doesn’t say much. Let’s try again. “Dude, that was- I mean-” 

Words aren’t his forte right now. He lifts his fists close to his temples and opens up his hands pushing them further away from his head. Otabek only quirks a brow at him but if Leo has learnt anything in these past few months, it’s that the small pursing of Otabek’s lips means he’s trying hard not to laugh. 

“What?” Otabek scoffs, seemingly offended. Not that Leo’s buying it, though. 

“You like babies, dude. The badass ‘too good for school’ biker likes babies! That’s so cute!” Leo coos, practically climbing onto the bar; Otabek shoves himself against the back of his seat so hard Leo can hear the blow clearly. Maybe he should down the intensity a few notches, but hey. He likes babies!

“I liked  _ one _ baby. It’s family. It’s different,” Otabek defends himself. Leo can smell the bullshit in the air. “They even look like you, it’s hard not to like them.”

Yeah, right. And she didn’t use to sleep on Otabek in order to barf on him; she just got up off her crib and went looking for him, right? Otabek might be the worst liar Leo has ever known, but at least he’s had better moments. This is just sad, man. “Huh, okay then. So tell me,” Leo taunts, and he almost knows the answer to it. “What was you baby sister’s first word? Can you remember that?”

Otabek’s lips twitch upwards, his features soften. Of course he does: that is how devotion looks like, gaze lost in a random nudge on the wooden bar and mind completely elsewhere. He must remember every little second he’s spent with her. Damn, he must miss her like hell. Leo knows he misses his siblings and they’re not even that far away. How can Otabek keep his head up despite being so far away from everything he knows it’s beyond him; the guy’s made of steel and determination. A true warrior. Nice match for the little sniper, huh? “ Ağa.” Leo shakes himself awake from his daydreaming. What was that? Definitely not english. “Means ‘brother’.” Otabek explains further and Leo grins like an idiot. He knows he is. He needs to stop. Damn, why won’t his face do what he needs it to? 

“So you were your baby sister’s first word? That’s so cute!” Leo bites his lips in order to stop himself from smiling too threatening for Otabek but the boy isn’t even looking at him, too curled up into his own memories. 

“Our parents work full time; Aika and I, we used to care for her.” Otabek says with a sheepishly smile. “She wouldn’t sleep if you didn’t sing to her, either. She started singing even before she could put two words together.” He chuckles, and runs his fingers through his hair, nibbling on the side of his lips. He does that when he gets too self-conscious, chewing himself until he bleeds. It looks different now, though; as if he was stopping himself from getting too sweet for his image. The childish smile he lets out hides nothing, despite his efforts. “Aika calls her Kişkene qus, little birdie. She was always tiny and loud as hell.” 

And that’s a good thing, Leo can see. Otabek adores it, every single detail of his sister, every single moment they shared. Every single time the girl woke up from a nap to vomit on him, too, surely. He’s that good of a big brother, huh? And Aika, well… Aika must be the big sister. It sounds like a girl’s name to Leo’s ears, but who knows; it could be the brother, maybe? Otabek never said a thing about him until today and he’s consciously avoiding him at all costs, so it must be the sister. 

“What’s your problem?” Otabek frowns at him and Leo blinks rapidly. He drifted off again. Man, he’s bad at this. “Who’s having a child?” He suddenly asks.

Leo fucked up. He’s not supposed to tell. Too soon, too private. Too not-of-his-roomate-business. But then again. 

“I’m gonna be an uncle, dude! Ailén texted me this morning.” 

He’s so bad at secrets. But it’s nothing his sister won’t forgive as soon as they have the little thing in their arms, right? It’s good news, and good news are meant to be shared. 

And Otabek’s smile is worth all the nagging he’ll get. “Congratulations.” He simply says with a smirk, “you’ll be awful at it.” Leo is about to defend himself when Otabek speaks again. “But you’ll cherish every second.”

“Even all the barfing?” Leo jokes and Otabek actually laughs, no hand covering his mouth, no nothing. Openly and honestly. 

“There are so many fluids you wouldn’t believe. Brace yourself.” 

Eugh. Well, nothing's that easy, is it?

Leo just can’t wait for the next six months to pass by. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's lighten the mood a bit, since we're close to our ending.


	8. Chapter 8

Otabek was getting nicer somehow, telling him little things about sleeping patterns or how to change a diaper when a baby doesn’t wanna cooperate. Calling him ‘chatty’ would be stretching the truth, but he was definitely less closed up on himself. 

He was even sleeping at home more often and completely sober. Asking Leo for new tunes to play. Hanging out with a tub of ice cream or a bottle of Jaeger in between them, just talking about random things. Turns out the boy hates Leo’s favourite flavor of ice cream- too bad for him, cookies n cream is a  _ blessing _ and Leo will defend it till his last breath. He’s never had any pets. Children like him for some reason; by the way he talks about his little sister, Leo can imagine why. The sucker doesn’t like kids, just the one, huh? Leo might be a gullible idiot but even he has a limit. 

Things were getting simpler, better. Not everyday, sure, but more often. Nightmares were still there, tough days happen. Otabek keeps vanishing from time to time but Leo can predict when by his body language before he leaves: the boy shrinks on himself every time he tries to take a word out of him. It still hurts and worries Leo to no end, but at least he knows when it’s happening; at least he knows when he needs to take a drink or a smoke so he can sleep. There’s no point in waiting up for Otabek anymore; he means to be invisible. It’s the least Leo can give him. 

Leo should have known. Things were getting better. The calm before the storm. 

Before the phone call.

He doesn’t get to his phone on time the first time: it happens around noon and he’s barely getting off his skates. The second call finds him on Otabek’s bike. The third’s the charm. It happens while Otabek is out to fix some weird noise or whatever on his bike. Leo heard it and Otabek explained but fuck him if he understood any of it. 

The phone rings against the bar, a too familiar tune echoing across the flat. That’s his family ringtone: that’s a call from home. He rushes in to get it. Javier’s voice breaks on the receiver; Leo’s hands tremble on his side. 

He can’t say a word. He hangs up and stares at the screen. 

He’s too far away from home. He should have never gone this far. They need him and he’s too far off. Fuck,  _ he  _ needs  _ them. _ He needs someone. 

He fights against the tremor still pulsing through his body to send one single text. Autocorrect doesn’t fail him this time.

_ Please come back. _

Leo throws his phone on the bar to reach out to the highest cabinet in the kitchen. He needs whatever he can get right now. Solitude embraces him like a thick dark veil around him and there’s no one around to rip it off his shoulders. He needs to numb it out and if the medicine comes in a clear glass bottle this time, then so be it. 

He doesn’t even hear the incoming text on his phone. 

Leo holds himself still under the covers, his arms pressin his knees against his chest. Somehow making himself smaller makes sense: there’s a whirlwind in his mind and he doesn’t feel big enough to face it. Strong enough. He needs the company, a helping hand, but there’s no one. Just an empty apartment and a phone that stayed silent for too long. He doesn’t even dare getting up and see his messages. What if it only got worse?

He needs someone, he needs something. The bottle of rum he snatched off the cabinet only helped him feel drowsy and giddy, and now his stomach is revolting against him. But the darkness soothes him: there’s a real world out of the covers where things just go to shit. A real world he belongs in but he can’t make himself get back on just now. 

Not alone. 

He feels the touch of a hand, cold even through the sheets, on his shoulder. 

“Get out of there.” The stern tone in Otabek’s voice startles him off his daydreaming. Leo flinches and curls further into himself: he’s not ready. Otabek, of all people, should understand. 

And that he does, or at least it seems like it. Otabek moves away; Leo doesn’t dare to pull the covers off his head but he hears the boots clearly tapping against the floor. Calmly. The boy stop, takes a minute or two and comes back, sitting on the side of the bed. Leo just pulls his legs closer to the middle of the mattress to give him some room: company is always welcome. He needs people around; he needs  _ him _ around. 

“They’ll be fine.” Otabek says without a thread of emotion in his voice. 

Who dare he? How dare he not feel a thing? He has no idea what it’s like. He has no clue what’s like being too far from home on a family crisis, your roots trying to pull you back, tugging at the strings of your heart. Holding you so hardly you can barely breathe. He won’t be fine, he won’t. Because he belongs at that home, and he’s  _ not there _ . When he’s most needed. What’s the point of having a career as a kid, being internationally renowned, only to be unapproachable when his family needs him the most? When his sister needs him the most?

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Leo tries to reply firmly, but it sounds more like a muffled sob pushing its way out of his sore throat. “I should be there- I should do something.” He hiccups and rubs his eyes furiously. He should be getting ready, taking the first plane to California. Any plane. They need him. What the fuck is he doing wallowing on his bed?

“There’s nothing for you to do. It’ll be fine.” Otabek replies matter-of-factly; Leo thanks his stars for not having the strength to get up or he’d slap the nosy boy already. He doesn’t bother answering him: that shit does not deserve an answer. Still, Otabek goes on. “She’s on a good clinic surrounded by enough people already. It’s a minor thing.”

“Minor?  _ She could bleed to death!” _ Leo sits up in a flash, pulling the covers off of him to stare at the impassive man at the side of his bed. The fire in his eyes contrast with Otabek’s icy calm gaze perfectly. 

“She won’t.” Otabek shoves Leo’s phone in front of him. Most texts on the family thread are in spanish, but there’s a few in english.  _ She’s alright, they’ll let her go in the morning. _ That must be what he’s read. The thing is he can’t have possibly understood any of the prior ones. What actually happened. “You don’t have to be everywhere all the time, Leo; they know you support them the best way you can. It’s fine-”

“I wanted to name her, you know?” Leo chuckles slowly and realizes that’s Otabek’s thing. Pretending it doesn’t hurt. Using his own pain as a blade against others. But he needs to feel Otabek close and he knows no other way: he’s suffering. This is all he has to offer right now. “Or him. Whatever. But Ailèn said it was gonna be a she.” 

He waits for the mockery that never happens. The stern ‘get over yourself’. The scolding. Anything but this. “What name did you choose?” Leo shakes his head softly to explain that there wasn’t one yet but Otabek cuts him short. “I know you have one. You always jump ahead of things: you must have the name.”

Leo giggles. Despite everything, Stone Wall can make him smile. Must be some sort of super power. “Paloma.” He confesses. “It means-”

“Dove.” A smile sneaks into Otabek’s lips. He can’t speak spanish for sure, but apparently he knows a word or two. “Why that one?” He asks with a small tilt of his head as in confusion, but Leo knows he understands his motives exactly. 

“I wanted her to be like your little birdie. Well, not  _ like  _ her, just-” Leo scoffs. It’s like his brain is in short circuit and his mouth in autopilot. All it comes out sounds like gibberish. But Otabek is a clever guy, he can out two and two together. Even then, Leo prefers to be as clear as he can be. It’s worth it. “I wanted to love her as much as you love your girl. I wanted her to be the reason I thrive and stay on my toes. And I wanted to call her everyday, and cherish every minute I get with her. Just like-”

“Shut up.” Otabek suddenly holds Leo’s face in his hands. Silence falls. Darkness surrounds them as Leo shuts his eyes close out of reflex. 

When he opens them, Otabek’s piercing stare is focused on Leo, powerful still yet somehow softer, human. His fingers play swirling threads of Leo’s hair around them, pulling them over Leo’s ears. Their foreheads touch, their words get lost in between them. Leo’s breath catches in his throat. 

“You’re always there, they know-  _ we know. _ ” Otabek whispers and his voice sound so much childish than Leo can remember. “You need to stop trying to be everywhere at once, for everyone. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” He brushes Leo’s bangs away from his face, letting a lone finger run through the line of his jaw. Leo can’t help but closing his eyes: it’s calming somehow. “You need to think of yourself, too.” 

“I wanted a niece.” Leo blurts out without even realizing it: it’s more of a long whimper than a sentence but Otabek catches up pretty soon.

“You have all the time in the world for a child. She does, too.” Otabek’s voice sounds as soft as a velvet sheathed blade. There’s an edge somewhere Leo can’t see, yet he feels the hard touch. 

He’s not in position to care about Otabek’s secret code just now. His sister is still on a hospital bed after a bad hemorrhage. Miscarriage, they said. It happens, they probably won’t be any permanent damage. None but their hearts torn in two. That was the family’s little baby. That’s Ailén little child who just vanished from the world in a whim.“How can you know that!? I have to talk to her.” 

“She’s in observation, Leo. She’s asleep. Trust me, she knows-”

“I’m 4000 km away from her!  _ How could she know? _ ” 

“And I’m 16000 km away from my city but my sisters never forget about me. Leo.” Otabek grabs Leo by his shoulders to push him far enough for them to look into each other’s eyes; Otabek’s usual piercing stare still holds the steel forged determination, but there’s a hint of anger making him clench his teeth a bit too hard, a frown on his brow too deep even to his daily apathetic demeanor. “She’s your sister, they’re your family. They know you. They know you’d be there if you could.  _ I know  _ and I’ve only known you for a few months.”

There’s a knot on his throat, a pressure holding his ribcage flat; air fails to reach his lungs as it is. The first breathe Leo gets to let out is a sob and when he starts he can’t stop. He slaps Otabek’s hands off of him to clutch his middle harshly enough he can feel the boy’s body suddenly stiffen. He needs a hug and he won’t let Otabek’s stone cold demeanor get in the way, not now. If he doesn’t get rid of the fist in his chest he might just stop breathing. 

Surprisingly enough, Otabek doesn’t push him away: instead, he allows his hand to brush Leo’s hair back, softly caressing his scalp. Leo’s whimpers against Otabek’s now damped shirt make him tremble so violently Otabek embraces him closer, rocking him slowly back and forth while shushing him. For some reason the calm heartbeat resonating against Leo’s chest and the voice murmuring sweetly into his ear help to alleviate the crushing feeling of solitude that shakes him to the bone. Eventually the cries soften into a tear or two and a stinging sensation at the corner of his eye as he catches his breath, sitting up on his own. 

Otabek takes this as his cue to move away, fetching his laptop from the drawer it’s always stored in. Leo barely gets to lift up his gaze to see the boy seated back at the other side of the bed, his back turned to Leo. Still, he doesn’t get the chance to ask before Otabek speaks up. “I’ve got something to show you.”

Otabek turns to kneel on the bed, carefully putting his laptop down in the middle of them, the screen facing Leo. It’s a setlist on a sound editing software Leo can’t recognize. An hours long playlist. He clicks on what looks like a shuffle button and recognizes the first chords in a second. 

He hasn’t listened to this band in years. In fact, he was never even allowed to go see them because ‘it’s too loud and someone might hurt him in there.’ It’s one of the bands he didn’t expect to find on Otabek’s laptop in a million years. Too soft for his usual EDM style and too mushy lyrics. 

Even in between the prickling in his eyes and the stiffness still clutching his chest, Leo chuckles and sings along the chorus. Poorly, out of breath, but right now, it doesn't matter. He loved this song once; how Otabek found it, he had no idea. 

[ _ I don't care if you don't mind _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vG-kOoapPo&list=RD-vG-kOoapPo)

[ _ I'll be there not far behind _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vG-kOoapPo&list=RD-vG-kOoapPo)

[ _ I will dare _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vG-kOoapPo&list=RD-vG-kOoapPo)

[ _ Keep in mind _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vG-kOoapPo&list=RD-vG-kOoapPo)

[ _ I'll be there for you _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vG-kOoapPo&list=RD-vG-kOoapPo)

He doesn’t listen to the end, as much as he wants to; curiosity is a strong force and the list seems endless. He jumps over one, two, three songs; there’s pop rock, industrial, some form of metal (Leo was never good at telling them apart). There are even Bowie songs somewhere around there  _ -I've had my share, I'll help you with the pain _ . _ - _ This is not about what Leo likes. It’s not about what Otabek likes.

It’s the lyrics. It’s the message. The only thread joining every song with the next. Softer or more aggressive, whisper or chanted or in a fit of rage, the words are all the same. 

What does it mean?

“It reminds me of her, a bit.” Leo blurts out, trying to understand the point. Is it about Ailén? How can Otabek deduce who even is she? He’s never even seen a picture of her, not because he didn’t have the chance, but because he just never cared. “She’s always around for people, you never feel alone; she won’t let you.” Leo chuckles again, brushing a tear off his eye. She’ll be fine, right? She’s given so much love around she won’t be lonely. Not ever. “Well, not quite.” He adds after a brief second. “She has this attitude, y’know? She’s all over the place. In a good way, but still-”

“It’s not about her.” Otabek cuts him short; Leo notices he’s moved to sit against the headboard, looking right in front of him. Almost ignoring Leo, avoiding his gaze. “It’s you.”

Leo giggles nervously. He’s not in the best mind state to start deciphering Otabek’s weird ways of communication right now. “What?”

Otabek huffs. He doesn’t wanna say it, huh? Too bad: Leo just can’t keep up with his game tonight. “Look.” That Leo does, but Otabek focuses his eyes on his fingers fidgeting against the sheets. “You try your best to care about everyone. I-” Otabek takes a deep breath, as if the words were razorblades he’s trying to push out of his throat. Why is it so hard for him? “ _ People _ notice. You don’t have to try so hard.” 

Leo jumps to another song; the languid pace is ripping his heart apart. Has he been doing all wrong all this time? The next isn’t particularly upbeat but there’s something happier about it. 

Almost like a love song, but not in a romantic way, if that makes sense. It makes sense to him, after all. It’s more honest, and selfless. Unconditional. 

That’s the kind of love he knows best. Maybe it’s the only kind Otabek knows how to give, even without saying so. 

His tunes say enough for him. 

[ _ But I'll reach out and find _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3VUqPQtIfA)

[ _ That I've run into you _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3VUqPQtIfA)

[ _ your strength is the power _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3VUqPQtIfA)

[ _ That carried me through _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3VUqPQtIfA)

[ _ FOREVER! _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3VUqPQtIfA)

“You’ll be fine.” Otabek barely murmurs over the music but Leo doesn’t wait for a sign to come closer: he throws his arms around Otabek’s neck and buries his face on the crook of the boy’s neck. 

It was nothing but a reflex, really: Leo was always the touchy kind, but he can feel the stiffness in Otabek’s shoulders. “Let me be not fine for a bit, would ya?” Leo mumbles against Otabek’s skin. “I’ll be if you let me.”

He waits for a tough comment back. For a kick. For a reluctant pat on the back. Not for this. Otabek holds him close with one arm around his middle while the other runs around his legs to make Leo sit on Otabek’s lap, earning a little yelp from the boy. Leo tries to look up at him but Otabek threads his fingers into Leo’s hair; it soothes him, both the massage against his scalp as the warmth of Otabek’s body surrounding him. It’s weird, huh? Leo’s the eldest and he still feels like a child, tiny in Otabek’s arms. 

He’s a bit hasty, he knows. But still, letting go of the thousand plans he’s already made for his little niece or nephew to be feels like a stab to the heart. As if he’s actually watched them die. He always wanted a little kid to care for, being the only child and all; he knows he can do it. 

He’s got his own life, and all the time in the world. That much is true. Even if tonight feels like a defeat. He’s not alone in it; Otabek is still around, and willing to stay. Leo can see that in the way Otabek holds him close, rocking him softly; his pulse beating against Leo’s lips, his fingers drawing small circles on Leo’s back. 

He’ll be fine. He won’t be alone.

He’s not alone. 

He can get over this. 


	9. Chapter 9

Rumours keep on growing around them but Otabek probably couldn’t care less. If they’re boyfriends, if they’re just fucking each other. If Leo is actually Otabek’s sugar daddy- Leo can’t help but chuckle at that one; he  _ is  _ putting a roof over the boy’s head, after all. 

Rumours actually help, in a way; it got easier for Otabek to get gigs from friends of Leo’s friends on the underground music industry. Which really means, around local bands and small pubs and bars Leo has seen grown from the ground. But Otabek is good enough to take advantage of the opportunities given: he’s known as the DJ who asks lights to be kept far away from his figure and that is a mystery enough for people to show. He’s the nameless wonder behind a mixing table, and he’s _ good _ . The word’s spreading that he’s done enough time to keep dodgy people at bay, although some don’t really care about it. So Otabek and him might have spent a night or two in jail, and been bailed by their coach, embarrassing speech included. 

Leo learnt how the insides of a police station look like. He learnt the coach was so put off by Otabek’s bruises, even without knowing where they came from, she taught him how to hide them after training. He learnt Otabek keeps at least one switchblade on him at all times, thanks to the officers who searched him each time, and that he’s surprisingly good at smuggling booze in and out of events and backstage rooms. 

He learnt Otabek knows exactly how the police works; he knows exactly which one to trust and which one to run from. He learnt Otabek has a particular stern tone in his voice when his ‘Yes, sir.’ and “No, ma’am, never again.’ are straight up bullshit. 

He never said the things he knew. He never asked how Otabek learnt them; the boy holds enough scars for a lifetime for Leo to open up one more. He wouldn’t betray the trust of the one who would threaten a guy twice his size in the blink of an eye just for stepping into Leo’s personal space. The boy is a hero, alright. The boy is a warrior, the very blade; forged in fire and hard as steel. The kind that can hardly keep warm without blood tainting them. 

Leo learnt he can’t stop Otabek and his impulses. He can only stay the morning after, fix what’s broken as good as he can. It’s not much, but it means the world to Leo to see those deep brown eyes sparkling with hope once more. 

Leo learnt the name Yuri Plisetsky could be the antidote as it could be the poison in the wound; it’s still tricky to mention, but it gives life. And life can be painful. Awfully so.

They don’t talk about it much, not only because Leo feels like walking into quicksand. But because Otabek likes to defend himself by asking in return. And Leo has nothing to say. He wishes he could see everything as clear as Otabek does, but there’s something that doesn’t add up, every time.  _ Friends, _ Guang Hong keep saying and yes, that they are, but why does it hurt so much then? Why is it that everytime Otabek asks, he has the need to change the subject, to snap back? To go at him, all teeth and nails? 

Not that he does, of course; he never would. He would never hurt Otabek, he wouldn’t have the heart. He’s got enough on his plate, even though Leo has no clue what that means. It’s best if he doesn’t; that’s one thing they agree on. 

Otabek calls the anxiousness, the rapid fire of silly explanations for staring too long at a snap, love. He says that’s how it starts: hiding, just in case. He says he knows he couldn’t take an outright rejection if it happened right now; Leo knows he wouldn’t either, but he prefers to laugh the awkwardness off of him instead, pushing the lump in his throat with a long sip of his beer. It’s 2 am on the so-called-vacation one day with the rink closed can give them; after a bottle of Jaeger downed in thirty minutes flat while lying on their bed, soft music on the background, words started flowing. Otabek’s first, which was weird enough- words about his little muse. 

“Do you think he’d stay? If he knew?” Otabek adopts a childish curious tone when talking about Yuri; it’s either that or a somber ‘just stop talking’ whenever Leo missteps. But this wasn’t Leo's question, nor does he really has an answer. The boy is strong enough, Leo reckons, but if he’s willing, well… “Do you think he’d even say a word to me at some point?”

Leo cackles at the incredulous tone, almost choking on his beer. “Let’s see.” He sits up and wobbles; somehow tightening the grip on the bottle helps him stay despite the heavy feeling in his limbs. “Would the guy internationally known as  _ the Russian Punk  _ be even remotely interested on an awesome skater who just happens to be a badass musician biker… ish?” He manages to get the whole sentence out without so much as a stumble, at least to his ears. He’s a bit too lost for his own comfort but it’s his house, his bed and his roommate. He’s fine. He’s safe. 

Otabek tilts his head to look at him like a lost puppy; his beer has been empty for a while but they’re both too lazy or too dizzy to fetch some more. Leo has to guess it’s the latter, judging by the way Otabek blinks at him. “That- that doesn’t sound like enough.” 

He’s slurring his words. Isn’t that cute? Leo can’t help but to giggle at it, an idea suddenly popping out into his mind. People always react nicely to flattery, don’t they? “Well, no, but it’s a start, to get the first word! After that there’s all of you! And- and-” Fuck that idea, he definitely can’t form a straight sentence without stumbling into his own words. “And you’re so so cool, with all your leather and metal and shit, you can even go fetch us a drink!” He tries to bust the bottle against the balcony door like they do on actions movies, but apparently that’s some really thick glass. It falls with a thud and rolls to the dresser without so much as a scratch. “Something better than that!” He adds for emphasis. 

“My...?” Otabek starts, running his fingers lazily through his hair, then letting them brush against the rings in his ears instead. “I  _ can _ do better than that.” He smirks and suddenly his voice is clear and determined and  _ terrifying _ . Nothing good comes out of someone who can dust the drunkenness off of him like that. “I can take you much further.” He finishes with the quirk of a brow and a flourish of a hand displayed for Leo to take. “If you dare.”

Leo’s brain suddenly seems to learn eighty new languages only to scream  _ no _ at him more fervently. The thing is, alcohol makes the voice of reason small, a whisper in his ear, and the one of his pride much bigger than it should be. The one that’s screaming ‘don’t let him take you for a coward!’ at his face. What a stupid thing pride is. What a stupid, powerful thing. 

“Hell yeah I do!” 

He jumps off the bed and moves practically on autopilot, getting dressed to go who knows where. Close enough, he realizes, since Otabek takes him by the hand and walks him through the neighbourhood. A series of streets Leo has seen not too long ago; they went here for a venue and left with a phone number or two and a black eye. To be fair, the guy looked like the cover of a class z slasher movie by the time Otabek decided he was done with him. A black eye wasn’t so bad.

They stop at the building door of the basement where the event was held a few nights back, and a shiver runs down Leo’s spine. Then he remembers: it was the stupidly large birthday party of some tattoo artist of sorts. 

Some tattoo artist that works at odd hours, since he has a shop at the back of the venue. 

Right behind this door.

Well, fuck. 

“Hey, man, this might not be the best idea.” Leo tries to reason in a soft tone. He has no clue of what’s going on in Otabek’s mind as he rings the doorbell. Leo physically winces as the guy shows up, all ink and metal and a stone face that quickly gives into a grin. He must be over 200 pounds of muscle easily, and knows the surrounding better than they do; Leo’s flight or fight instinct tells him he’s fucked either way. Better play nice. 

“Altin! My boy!” The man shouts at their face but Otabek barely flinches under his bear hug, hands still firmly in his pockets. “Can’t sleep again? Care for a drink?”

Again? Does he come here often? Leo doesn't dare ask as the enormous man walks behind them to eager them in. They can hear the music through the tiny hallway that divides the club from the guy’s studio; it makes the door tremble in its hinges and Leo’s ribs rumble inside of him, as if he was all loose and rattling into his bones. He looks away as the nausea starts crawling up his throat; too much booze, damn it. He should know by now when it’s too much. 

Otabek doesn’t talk; he barely smiles that cold polite smile he does when a fan approaches him a bit too close for his taste. They get shoved into the club by the side door, and Leo loses track of time immediately. The throbbing of the lights and the music clashing into his skull and the smell of spilled alcohol on the floor… He runs to the white fluorescent lights; he can at least remember where the bathroom was. 

The moment Leo gets back the place looks completely different; his mind is still buzzing with the effects of alcohol but he’s let most go down the drain. At least he knows what’s going on now, despite the awful taste in his mouth. The crowd seems like a uniform mass of strangers in their own uniqueness: leather and latex and metal and chains, all shinning under the black lights in colorful hairstyles and dodgy side stares at him. He doesn’t fit. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt and moves to the bar, where there’s a bit more light; maybe Otabek will find him there. 

Funny enough, he finds Otabek right next to the bar, trapped in between some guy and the wall. He rushes to his side to protect him until he can see the boy’s expression: he’s not smiling, but the tilt of his head and the raised brow as the stranger talks him into something means challenge. From a closer look he doesn’t seem like he’s in danger. Leo’s still uncomfortable enough to need to get out; he walks to their side to try and awkwardly tell Otabek he’s leaving.

He doesn’t manage to say a word though. The moment Otabek looks at him, he grabs the guy by his shoulder and forcefully pushes him aside with a tiny smile on his lips. “Changed my mind; I have better things to do.” 

Leo can see the guy about to throw a fit but he only huffs and walks away as Otabek runs his arm across Leo’s middle to carry him to the bar. “Don’t look so scared.” Otabek practically purrs in his ear: his words are slurred and heavily accented. He’s been drinking while Leo was gone. He’s even resting his weight on the older boy. “He won’t make a fuss in Nikko’s place. No one does.” 

Leo holds the hand on his waist tightly as Otabek orders two drinks that sound a bit too poisonous to his ears. Sure, they’re on a break, but isn’t this a bit much? They shouldn't end up in an alcoholic coma just because of it. “Hey, man, we probably should just go home.”

“We will. In a bit.” Otabek smirks at him, before signaling the side door to the stoned faced bartender. To the studio. Whatever that is, it’s definitely not a good idea.“I brought you here for a reason.” 

“Look, dude, I don’t think you should be making any important decisions right now.”  _ Like getting a pretty permanent tattoo while horribly intoxicated, _ Leo wants to add, but he knows Otabek can’t be stopped when he sets his mind on something, And he’s a smart kid: he might just want the quiet of the studio. That’s an actual possibility, right?

“It’ll be fine.” Otabek assures him in a completely  _ not fine _ drunken tone while leading by his hand to the studio. The big guy is waiting there for them; he must have talked to Otabek while Leo was gone. 

“You think? Do you even know the guy?” Leo tries to find some other excuse than ‘you’re too gone for this’ to make him retreat. It doesn’t work. 

“I come here occasionally. He’s a nice guy.” Otabek explains matter-of-factly. “Too loud though. But he reminds me of someone.” 

Big guy is preparing the table for something that includes a really really big needle. Leo feels the bile trying to climb back up; usually he doesn’t give two shits about needles but that stuff on the table plus all the things they put into their bodies already shouldn’t go together. Still, Otabek doesn’t even flinch. 

“A good someone?” Leo avoids the subject, yet can’t stop eyeing the instrumental laid neatly while Big Guy fetches some gloves. He knows what he’s doing, that’s a relief. 

“You should meet him. You’d like him. He’d like  _ you. _ ”  Otabek lets out more as a reflex than an actual reply, as he sits on the offered chair by the set table. Big guy grabs his face and brushes his finger against Otabek’s lower lip. What the fuck are they plotting? “The day you come to Almaty with me.” He says as big guy retreats to grab a marker. He’s making not one, but two dots under Otabek’s lip. Leo’s hands form fists into his pockets. 

“Would you take me home with you?” Leo jokes to relieve tension and Otabek just smirks. He would, of course he would. He’s too far gone to lie about it or change the subject right now; not answering is his best choice. He’s done that before; Leo knows his game already. 

“Okay, boy, stop talking and don’t move or I’ll fuck up your face bad.” Big guy jokes and it’s not funny, at all. He takes Otabek’s lip in between some huge tongs and pushes a needle right through the flesh under it; he leaves a piece of it there as he does the same thing right next to it. If Leo ever needed something weird to dream about now he has it: the image of Otabek, dizzy as hell and his head pushed back with two metal spikes pierced right through his mouth. He has to say, it does look badass. 

The needles are quickly removed to be replaced by two silver rings, and Big Guy offers his hands to Otabek to get up; the boy still stumbles on his feet as he does so. “All good, kiddo. You should know how to take care of that already.” He says with a rumble at the back of his throat that should probably sound like a chuckle. To Leo it’s just terrifying. “Now, how about you?” 

Leo’s blood freezes in his veins as the man turns to him. Positively terrifying, that guy is. “I-’ I’m good, man.” He tries to sound relaxed but he knows he looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

“You’ve come all this way for naught? Come on, boy, live a little!” The guy insists and Leo takes a step back. He’s ready to make a run for it when Otabek steps in between them, taking Leo’s hand from his pocket and gripping it tightly. 

“He said no.” Otabek says sternly with a strength Leo thought already lost for the night. “Back off.” 

The man just throws his hands in the hair and starts collecting his tools. “Fine, whatever. As you wish.” 

The bartender shows up to leave a couple of drinks on the table and Leo is too scared to take his. He’d rather just walk to the door now that he can. Otabek catches up soon enough (he was paying their tab, probably) and opens the door for him; they walk out to the raging wind outside and Leo can’t help but turn to Otabek to check if that’s somehow annoying to him, open wounds and all. 

He sees Otabek’s holding the plastic glass on his hand. Taking it to his lips. You don’t need to be a genius to know what not to do with fresh piercings. “Hey dude, that’s probably not the best-” 

Otabek winces and spits the drink out. Of course. “Fuck.” He grimaces and Leo can’t help but giggle. The boy is still a boy, nonetheless. Airheaded and whimsical and pouting because his lip hurts too much. He throws the whole glass across the street in a fit of rage and glances at Leo. “You should have said something.” 

“I  _ tried.” _ Leo whines. “It’s not like you’d have listened.” He takes a couple of steps further just in case as Otabek takes his time, walking slowly while rolling the rings around with his tongue. “You’ll listen to the Coach, though.” He chuckles, smirking at Otabek’s mock frown. “She’ll have a few things to say about those.” 

Otabek looks away before smiling mischievously at Leo. He lets his tongue run across his lower lip, tasting the cold metal. “You were with me. You should have stopped me. You could have.” 

Could he, though? He hasn’t been able to stop any of the ghosts coming to get Otabek; he couldn’t stop any of the bruises from happening. He couldn’t stop the late nights, the hangovers, the full days without sleeping. He couldn’t stop the nightmares. 

He could stop the guy tonight, though. He could stop whatever it was about to happen; he’s still not sure if Otabek was up for the offer or just willing to see if he could survive it. He can make Otabek go to bed and nurse the alcohol off; he can make him stay safe for a night, maybe two. He can make a difference; not much, but he can. He wishes he has the power the name of Yuri Plisetsky has on him, but tonight it doesn’t really matter. Tonight Otabek’s let him in. He can work with this. 

A sharp shove shakes him off his thoughts when Otabek hooks his fingers on Leo’s belt loops to push Leo against him. “We’re in this together.” He murmurs, his glassy eyes fixed on Leo’s. 

He can work with this.

Leo lets his head rest on the crook of Otabek’s neck and nuzzles at him. “The can we go home together? I wanna go to bed.” He whines and feels the rumble of laughter against his chest. 

Together. Such a simple word. Such a powerful idea. They’ll be fine as long as they’re together. Otabek will be fine as long and he’s not alone. 

And he’ll never be. Leo will make sure he knows. He’ll make sure Otabek remembers. Through the years, through the competitions. Through whole continents, if needed. He’ll never be alone again. Leo won’t let it happen. 

The hand at his waist cling to him a bit tighter before releasing him completely. “Yeah, let’s go home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had another ending but I can't get around to make it and I'm currently working in something that might be just a long fic or an actual new series. Stay tuned? And thanks for all your support, as always.


End file.
